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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597043">I've Always Liked To Play With Fire</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/taimehosh/pseuds/taimehosh'>taimehosh</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Teen Wolf (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha Derek Hale, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, BAMF Stiles, Derek Hale Deserves Nice Things, Emissary Stiles Stilinski, Eventual Smut, Hale-McCall Pack, M/M, Mates Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Corey Bryant/Mason Hewitt, Minor Liam Dunbar/Theo Raeken, Minor Lydia Martin/Jackson Whittemore, Minor Malia Tate/Kira Yukimura, Minor Vernon Boyd/Isaac Lahey/Erica Reyes, Pack Dynamics, Pack Feels, Protective Pack, Red Riding Hood Elements, Scott McCall &amp; Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Sheriff Stilinski's Name is Noah, Slow Build Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Stiles Stilinski is Derek Hale's Anchor, Top Derek Hale/Bottom Stiles Stilinski, True Alpha Scott McCall (Teen Wolf), Warning: Kate Argent, chris argent appears at the end for a little bit, except for cora that is, i HAD to include it okay, i only put the warning up because of blood and minor violence, kali and ennis also appear, let me know if i miss anything, nothing TOO major she just wont ago away, oh and the ghost riders, sorta - Freeform, the pack has two alphas deal with it, there's witches too</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 07:21:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>34,434</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24597043</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/taimehosh/pseuds/taimehosh</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>    Beacon Hills definitely didn’t fall short on the crazy train. The once quiet and quaint town in California quickly entered the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.</p><p>    There was always mysterious and unexplained things happening all over town. From horrific deaths and people randomly appearing in the streets targeting a certain group of teenagers, there was always something happening.</p><p>    But if only they knew. If only they knew about the darkness in the woods and what lurks the shadows. If only they knew about glowing eyes and canines dripping with saliva. If only they knew about the house in the woods and the not-so-normal people that occupied it.</p><p>    For if they did know, they'd hear legends about the boy in the red hood riding a large wolf through the trees, basking in the full moon. If only they knew what he was capable of doing, of the match he held in his hand. If only they knew about the boy that ran with wolves.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Derek Hale/Stiles Stilinski, Minor or Background Relationship(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>218</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>I've Always Liked To Play With Fire</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I also included songs to recommend listening to during certain scenes. It took me a while to choose what I thought was the best song to use so hopefully, you guys enjoy the small addition. I used it in hopes of setting the scene better.<br/>Also, I based this fic loosely off of a gifset I stumbled upon on Tumblr and was inspired to write this fic.<br/>https://prettiestcaptain.tumblr.com/post/156685298829/some-say-that-the-hale-packs-emissary-is-just-a</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    Every town has their secrets, their own story to tell. Every town has its own darkness that burdens its streets, for not every place on earth is holy and unmarked.</p><p>    Beacon Hills definitely didn’t fall short on the crazy train. The once quiet and quaint town in California quickly entered the spotlight for all the <em> wrong </em> reasons.</p><p>    It started off simple, innocent. </p><p>    The sudden decrease of wildlife brought concerns mainly from hunters, those who chase deer and rabbits and all the like merely for sport or for gain. One hunter came forward a few days after hunting season began with the complaint that there was no life in the woods at all. Not even a chirp of a little sparrow high up in the branches above. He claimed to not have spotted a single life-form, other than running across other confused hunters in the forest. No buck. No does. No squirrels. No rabbits—hell, there wasn’t even a chipmunk in sight. The hunter thought it was some prank and demanded to know where they kept their ‘livestock.’</p><p>    (But those who knew, who <em> really knew</em>, know what truly had happened. Years worth of wildlife doesn’t just vanish from their home overnight. Not without a specific reason, that is. They were driven out and it being hunting season had nothing to do with it.)</p><p>    Then it continued with the gradual spike of attacks. The police marked the murders as 'animal attacks' to help calm the people, to help quiet down the raging questions being aimed at their throats like the red laser from an AK-47. The people were scared and confused, feeling a shift in the air that they couldn’t quite put their tongues on. Even the police had no idea what they were facing. All they knew was that bodies kept coming up one and after one and the only lead they had was the claw marks marring the victim’s throats.</p><p>    But then some kid, some<em> teenager </em> with a hyperactive mind that didn’t seem to know the words “back off, kid” kept persisting. He flipped through every cold case, every page the police had on their victims. Helping bring peace to the families by identifying Jane Doe’s and John Doe’s alike. This teenager became a nuisance rather quickly as he put the picture together piece by piece by piece until the entire puzzle was finished. Even with the threats sent through the mail, the people they would send to his house to slam him against the wall and beat him to an inch of his life, this kid offered more resilience than they’ve ever seen before.</p><p>    He first popped up on the radar when the body of Mr. Lahey turned up in the morgue, raising questions at the male’s horrific murder. He knew there was no way a mountain lion killed him. The gash marks on his throat and chest definitely didn’t come close to matching the gashes of a mountain lion. So while his father, the literal Sheriff, didn’t believe him in his suspicions, the boy began his own investigation. Interviewing Isaac Lahey and Jackson Whittemore. Going to the Lahey house and bypassing the crime scene tape littered all over in warning to those who dared to trespass. It didn’t take him long to figure out that Mr. Lahey was the coach of the swimming team many years ago and the victims that were murdered happened to be on his team. Now all he had to figure out was the motive and who the killer was. It took a little while, some mishaps and getting his ass handed to him here and there, but the boy figured it out—and that’s when the doors to the supernatural world had bursted wide open.</p><p>    Originally poised as a nuisance then a threat then a possible ally, he was often underestimated by the people he came across. He was a mere human, after all, and although he took beating after beating, he got back up stronger than before.</p><p>    Stiles Stilinski.</p><p>    The most resilient, stubborn, annoying, human to ever invite himself into the supernatural realm. He’s headstrong and loyal, compassionate but tough around the edges. He doesn’t trust anyone but that’s because his best friend, Scott, trusts <em>everyone</em> so he feels the need to be the barrier between natural and supernatural.</p><p>    Even as Beacon Hills slowly became consumed with the reality that humans were not the only ones occupying the earth, Stiles Stilinski made a name not only for himself, but for his kind.</p><p>    Even when someone broke the news of his best friend being a werewolf, a <em>True Alpha</em>, and all of his friends being involved in the supernatural, breaking the norm and shattering everything Stiles thought was real and fiction, he still held his head high and stuck by their sides despite being a 147 pounds of pale skin and fragile bones with sarcasm being his only defense.</p><p>    However, when Deaton first shed light on what a Spark was, it seemed to ignite something in Stiles’ consciousness. <em> Things began happening. </em></p><p>    It started with Stiles spreading the mountain ash around the building that held the secret rave. Then it happened again when the pack was in a pinch and Stiles squeezed his eyes and imagined—<em>believed</em>—that his father would show up like a knight on a white horse, shot gun in hand and Hellhound at his side. When he opened his eyes, they landed on his father, cocking a shotgun, and a Hellhound Jordan Parish at his side.</p><p>    And that’s when the realization that maybe, <em>just maybe</em>, Stiles isn’t as human as he thought he was. So back to Deaton he goes and the information laid out to him only opens the doors wider.</p><p>    It took two years for Stiles to master his abilities, much shorter than the common Sparks Deaton has come across. The boy has shown remarkable determination to protect and fight now that he knows he’s <em> finally </em> able to do something.</p><p>    It took two years of Stiles being away from Beacon Hills. Away from all of his friends—from his <em> pack </em>.</p><p>    Stiles first came into the supernatural world curious and wide-eyed. He was the last to know about his friends but the first to put the murders together. He started as a weak human that had no idea what he was doing and that was only able to hang back while his friends got the glory when he only got a simple pat on the back or a rough <em>‘awesomethanksbye’</em> before he’s left alone. He first started out as a simple human teenager that didn’t quite fit in with the pack; underestimated, unappreciated, and ignored.</p><p>    When Stiles turned his back temporarily on his home, on his pack, with the promise to return a better person, he meant it. He wouldn’t allow himself to come back home useless and weak.</p><p>    And when he did come home, he wasn’t surprised to see that the town was in an even bigger mess than when he left it. Not only that, but there were new faces in the pack as well. <em> Many </em> new faces.</p><p>    Twin betas named Aiden and Ethan. They were supposedly a part of an Alpha Pack that they had dealt with while Stiles was away and although they both lost their alpha status, they joined Scott’s pack soon when they were offered security.</p><p>    Theo Raeken. Originally viewed as one of the most manipulative villains for months upon months, they were eventually able to smack some sense into him after sending him to Hell. <em> Literally. </em> And now he’s one of Scott’s most trusted betas.</p><p>    Liam Dunbar. The boy Scott accidentally bit while trying to save his life. Now that he was the True Alpha’s beta, he was more powerful than they could’ve ever predicted but he struggled for the longest time to try to accept who he now was.</p><p>    Malia Tate. A were-coyote that was stuck in her coyote form after a tragic accident as a child. Scott’s roar knocked her back into her human form and he taught her how to harness her abilities. Of course she wasn’t the easiest to talk to for the longest time. She was trapped as a coyote for most of her life so getting her out of that mindset took time and patience.</p><p>    Kira Yukimura. She’s a freaking <em> kitsune </em> , for goodness sake. She was the one who actually sent Theo down to the realm of Hell that his dead sister created, all with this little sword she had that represented her ‘tails’. Stiles wasn’t quite sure, he wasn’t paying attention honestly. He was just amazed because—hello, it’s a <em> thunder kitsune </em> we’re talking about here.</p><p>    Corey Bryant. He was originally in Theo’s pack but soon came over to join Scott’s after their battle was over and done with. Like Theo, he was an experiment that suffered at the hands of the Dread Doctors (which, by the way, is a <em>long story</em>). While he’s not a werewolf, he’s a chimera that has the ability of a chameleon.</p><p>    Mason Hewitt. He was originally much like Stiles. Human. Curious, wide-eyed, and eager. He was set to be the McCall pack’s “temporary emissary” while Stiles was away. He had the wit and the spunk to be one, after all, and Stiles definitely wasn’t mad upon meeting him.</p><p>    Peter Hale. Peter is not only Malia’s father, but he was originally an alpha before that got taken away from him. It’s a mess honestly and Stiles is glad he wasn’t here to bear witness to any of it because his head was already spinning out of control as it was.</p><p>   Cora Hale. Originally presumed dead in the tragic Hale fire, she had made her way to Beacon Hills when she caught whispers of another Hale gaining alpha status. Until that moment happened, she let the entire world believe that she had perished in the fire.</p><p>    Derek Hale. Not only was he Cora's older brother, but he was Peter’s nephew and the one who took his alpha status away. He’s still an alpha and it took him a while to be able to grasp the reins properly but with Scott’s aid, he grew not only as an <em>‘alpha in training’</em> but as a person.</p><hr/><p>    “Two years, Scott,” Stiles exhales as he rubs his temples, “I was away for <em> two years </em> and I come back to <em> this</em>.”</p><p>    Showing a sheepish smile, Scott offers lamely, “Welcome home?”</p><p>    “You’ve got a lot of explaining to do, buddy.”</p><p>    “I know, but that’s going to have to wait.”</p><p>    Stiles cocks an eyebrow. “How come?”</p><p>    Scott gestures wildly at his arms and it takes the other male a second or two to get what he’s referring to. He lets out a small <em>‘oh, right’</em> and pulls his sleeves up even higher to reveal the tattoos stretching across both his arms.</p><p>    “What are they?” Allison asks curiously as everyone crowds him to get a peak.</p><p>    “They may look like tattoos, but they’re actually spells and hexes.” Stiles explains, a twitch of a smile tugging at his lips. “Protection spells, hexes that enhance my senses.”</p><p>    “So you’re like,” Mason starts before pausing, trying to think of the right term, “like a witch then?”</p><p>    “There’s a difference between being a witch and a Spark.” Derek argues neutrally. “While both are similar in the way that they can cast spells and hexes, Sparks and Witches are <em>vastly</em> different.”</p><p>    Stiles eyes him for a second, head tilted to the side. “And do you know just <em>how different</em> they are, Sourwolf?”</p><p>    Derek gives him a flat look as he folds his arms across his chest. “First of all, stop calling me that. Second of all, Witches are born with their abilities and are immortal. Sparks <em>earn</em> their abilities based on their own will power and what their soul is truly like.”</p><p>    “So you’re like Scott!” Corey chirps with a wide smile. “He earned his alpha status like you earned yours!”</p><p>    “If you put it like that, then yeah, I guess so.” Stiles says while rolling his sleeves down.</p><p>    “So Scott tells me that you’re an Emissary?” Derek inquires softly, mainly out of curiosity. When Stiles looks over at him, he realizes that the wolf hasn’t seemed to look away from him the entire time. And while in normal circumstances, Stiles would be uncomfortable with someone’s constant staring, he finds himself returning the stare as a tingle runs down his spine.</p><p>    “Damn right I am,” he grins wickedly and tosses an arm around Scott’s neck. “I saved this guy’s ass more than he can count. When I was still some twig human, nonetheless. Ah, the good ol’ times.”</p><p>    “Well,” there’s a long pause before Derek is stepping forward and extending a hand towards him. “It’s an honor to finally meet the guy that Scott never shuts up about. And as his second in command, I’d like to say welcome home, Stiles. Welcome back to the pack.”</p><p>    There’s a warm, welcoming hint of a smile on Derek’s lips. Stiles sees Scott share looks with Allison and Peter as he’s reaching a hand out to accept the handshake. He bites back the little gasp bubbling up his throat when he feels a shock ignite between their palms once they meet.</p><p>    “Good to be back.”</p><hr/><p>    It didn’t take long before more problems arose and Stiles was forced to stop his plans of unpacking in his newly assigned room in the pack’s shared home. There was a new Big Bad in town and he had to show his pack that he was still their Emissary, and that he was no longer the clumsy human that used his sarcasm as his weapon.</p><p>    Even as time went by and Stiles became closer to the new members of the pack, it wasn’t quite the same with Derek. While the alpha did seem welcoming and open to him returning to the pack, he wasn’t easy to talk to. According to Scott, the guy just doesn’t trust people a whole lot and he was only able to finally gain his trust after a year of pushing and pulling with the guy.</p><p>    “Just give him some time.” Scott advises gently. “When he’s ready to trust you, you’ll know.”</p><p>    “So, what, I should just stand here and wait? Is that what you’re saying?” Stiles sighs, closing his book with a solid thump. He didn’t even bother putting a bookmark in it. He’s read it a thousand times by now.</p><p>    Scott sends him an amused look. “No, I didn’t say that. Even I had to prove to him that I wasn’t his enemy, that he could trust me. That we could trust <em>each other</em>. It took some time but… I think you’ll be different.”</p><p>    Stiles pauses and turns to his friend with a confused frown. “What do you mean?”</p><p>    “Nothing.” Scott answers rather quickly but his eyes seem to speak other volumes. “Just trust me, okay? He’ll come around.”</p><hr/><p>    Four months later and Stiles finally figures out what he’s talking about—and it takes them <em> almost getting killed </em> for it to happen.</p><p>    There were Witches and Warlocks invading the town. Too many of them for the pack to handle and Stiles was running out of juice. He was bone-deep exhausted and he could barely lift a limb when he, along with several members of the pack, were captured. In and out of consciousness, bound to chains like some kind of animal, Stiles was rendered useless when he realized that the chains around his wrists had protective hexes on them. His Spark was blocked and he wasn’t able to use his abilities at all. He remembers tugging on his restraints, hard, every time one of the Warlocks tortured his friends. His throat was dry and rendered raw with his own screams and shouts.</p><p>    “Leave him alone!” Scott shouts, voice cracking as he struggles against his captor’s hold. “He has nothing to do with this!”</p><p>    “He has <em> everything </em> to do with this.” A witch hisses. Stiles recognizes her as the leader or maybe even the Head of the Coven that they’re dealing with. Didn’t matter but he could tell that she stood out in comparison to the other witches around them. She was more powerful and seemed to be fueled with more <em>rage</em> than the rest.</p><p>    Ignoring the harsh grip on his jaw, Stiles focuses on the woman standing in front of him with some sort of dagger raised high. He focuses on the tip of the blade pressing into his forehead and the way her hand trembles whenever she presses it closer to his flesh.</p><p>    “I have no idea who you are,” Stiles grits. Her head whips around to face him once again, eyes wide and full of fury. “But my office is open. I’m sure if you booked an appointment we could get <em> well </em> acquainted.”</p><p>    Her scowl quickly morphs into a wicked grin. “Thank you for the advice. I’ll make sure to keep that in mind when I kill your precious friends.”</p><p>    “Stiles, what are you doing?” Malia snarls. “You’re pissing her off.”</p><p>    “Maybe I should start with Scott. You two go way back, don’t you?” Finally, she pulls away from him and instead takes slow steps towards the alpha. “Of course, that doesn’t mean Scott kept you in the dark. How long did it take for you to find out what he was?”</p><p>    She was taunting him. Trying to get a reaction out of him. But if there was anything about Stiles, it was that he was good at words and always has a trick up his sleeve.</p><p>    “Or maybe I should go with the pretty little red-head—”</p><p>    “Strawberry blonde.” Stiles corrects. The witch pauses and slowly pivots to him with an unamused stare. “Her hair is strawberry blonde.”</p><p>    “Stiles.” Lydia warns in a gritted whisper.</p><p>    “Whatever her hair color is,” the witch dismisses angrily as she turns back and twirls a strand of the banshee’s hair around her finger, “I think it would be pretty as a wig, don’t you think? C’mon, Stiles, I bet you feel <em> some </em> resentment towards her. You’ve loved her for many years and she never noticed you. Not until you actually brought something to the plate.” She grins widely and smooths Lydia’s hair away from her shoulders while moving to stand behind her. “Not until you were worthy of having her attention.”</p><p>    “I’d like to think that I just wasn’t on her radar.” Stiles deflects with a thoughtful hum. Lydia’s eyes, though glistening with tears, hardened in her pointed stare.</p><p>    “Or maybe I should kill the only other human in your little pack. Mason, is it?” Moving around Lydia, she peers curiously down at a kneeling Mason, bound by chains at her feet. “He did replace you, Stiles. Filled whatever void you created when you left. They said it was only temporary, but I think you and I both know one thing.” Turning her head to look over at him, eyes twinkling like the pit of fire they were all circled around. “You’re easily replaceable.”</p><p>    “That may be true,” Stiles exhales and tilts his head back a little, “But I always leave an impression.”</p><p>    Undeterred by his challenging stare, the witch clicks her tongue in mock disappointment before her eyes darted around and finally landed on someone that caused her smile to grow so wide that he swore it was about to split her face open. She’s over by Derek’s side in less than a second, grasping his tousled hair in her fist and yanking his head back. She only laughs when the alpha snarls at her, when Stiles tenses in his restraints.</p><p>    “Oh?” She says, watching Stiles curiously as she presses the dagger against the wolf’s jugular. “Struck a nerve?”</p><p>    “What do you want?” Stiles grits out. “Surely, it’s not a campfire. The lack of marshmallows and ghost stories is <em>really</em> disconcerning.”</p><p>    “The only ghost stories you’ll tell will be about the people you watched die in front of your very eyes.” The witch’s laughter booms through the night air like a bullet being fired. “Because your ignorance got them killed.”</p><p>    “I think I have a way to start it off,” another witch joins in, walking towards them and holding an outstretched hand towards the fire, “How about with some irony?”</p><p>    “Don’t you dare!” Peter bellows, yanking and tugging and squirming to try to break-free but it was as if their hands were made of wolfsbane and silver. The woman merely grins over at him as a portion of the fire they were circling was summoned to her palm, cutting through the air and scorching some of the leaves hanging above her head.</p><p>    Then, suddenly, there’s so much noise. Everyone’s shouting different words, different curses and pleas. Stiles watches her move in slow-motion, watches as Derek’s expression turns from desperation to terror. </p><p>    Even from a distance he could see the flicker of the flames reflecting in the alpha’s eyes, and he could hear the screams of his family at the house they were trapped in, engulfed in raging flames. He could smell the gut-wrenching stench of burnt flesh, blood, and charred smoke. The stinging numbness of broken nails and ripped skin creeping up his fingertips, nails run down completely and bloody from scratching at the wall to escape. The saltiness of tears on the tip of his tongue, filling wide and terrified doe-eyes and rolling down soot-stained cheeks.</p><p>    It painted a vivid picture in Stiles’ mind and it was as if he was there when it happened. Like he was on the sidelines watching Peter struggle to find a way out, to try to save his family to no avail. Watched as Peter <em>barely</em> survived with his life after getting scorched in his attempt to free them. Watched as a young Derek, still so innocent and manipulated, crumble at the grave of his beloved mother.</p><p>    And suddenly… it all stopped. All the noise, all the shouting. Silence.</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “play with fire” by sam tinnesz ft yacht money ]</b>
</p><p>    Slowly opened his clenched eyes, Derek dares to look back up at the fire that was being thrown at him. It was still there, however it was being blocked and pushed up against some kind of an invisible wall. He could see the witch’s confused expression as she tries to force more fire his way but it doesn’t budge. The blade against his throat slowly slips away and he takes the moment to look around, to try to find the cause of this. His eyes quickly land on Stiles and he has to bite back a gasp at the mere sight of him.</p><p>    Stiles, who came into his life in a heap of sarcasm and intense wit. Stiles, who didn’t take his brooding nature and <em>‘grumpy eyebrows’</em> to heart and continuously persisted to wiggle his way past those walls Derek spent <em>years</em> building up. Stiles, who always had a plan for every Big Bad of the week, who always led them to victory and who always changed lives everywhere he went. Stiles, who is remarkable and stunning and <em> dangerous </em> in every fiber, was even more wicked when triggered.</p><p>    Standing there so calmly while rubbing his bloodied wrists, free from the chains that were supposed to prevent him from breaking out. Tattoos inked along his arms shifting and moving, glowing and expanding; pulsing with a terrifying life to them. And slowly, he raises his head to reveal a pair of eyes that Derek was always mesmerized with. It was like he was looking up at the night sky and seeing stars twinkling back at him, though it was different. Instead of seeing stars in Stiles’ eyes, he saw sparks.</p><p>    And suddenly, it’s like the air itself is being ignited. Like Stiles is holding a match in his hand and ready to throw it at the gasoline spilled around him. The fire that burned wildly in the pit flickered before suddenly going out, leaving them in pitch darkness for only a split second. Then Stiles’ voice could be heard, quiet yet menacing through the air.</p><p>
  <em>     “Boom.” </em>
</p><p>    Derek had to close his eyes at the sudden and bright show of light, shrinking away with the intense heat swirling around him. As if an explosion was set off all around them, there was fire everywhere. Burning away the darkness and everything that brought them harm. Derek was both horrified and amazed as he watched the flames hold the witches back, away from the pack. No matter what the witches threw at the fire, whether it be spells or hexes, the flames only seemed to get stronger, brighter, <em>hotter</em>.</p><p>    A hand came into view. Derek stared at the open palm, welcoming and patient, before letting his eyes slowly trail up the arm attached to it. He carefully studies the roots sprouting from the middle of the palm, over his wrist, until the wavy trunk of a large tree appears on his forearm. The branches spread out widely, covering every inch of skin there was, and Derek could see the tattoo <em> coming to life </em> before his very eyes. He watches as the little, black inked leaves float and glide out of flesh and hover above the image of the tree. Floating down the length of the arm before swirling around and between the fingers stretched towards him. Derek’s eyes continued their journey up the arm until they landed on the pair of sparkling, galaxy eyes in front of him. And even as he saw the pops of sparks in his eyes and the flickering of the flames behind him, Derek didn’t feel threatened. He didn’t feel scared or feel the need to shrink away. Instead, as he reached out to take Stiles’ hand, he felt warm. He felt safe.</p><p>    “What are you?” A witch shakily gasps, bewildered and confused. Stiles didn’t reply at first as he hauled Derek up to his feet easily, like the bulky alpha weighed a simple feather. Derek felt the air be knocked out of him once they stood toe to toe, face to face, like this and could taste Stiles’ breath on his lips. He caught a whiff of Stiles' <em>true</em> scent, which was normally blocked and concealed by spells. Cinnamon, wildfire, and mountain ash. It was everything he imagined it would be.</p><p>    “Don’t you know?” Stiles blithely answered his opponent, keeping his gaze on Derek for another few seconds before slowly turning towards the witches. “I’m an Emissary.”</p><p>    The electric energy lingering in the air in the form of white hot sparks shot forward in a gust, pushing the wildfire forward and spreading it around the witches. Debris flew around wildly from the sudden burst of wind, swirling all around them like a barricade but also as a secondary weapon; cutting and slashing at the flesh of their opponent one after one. </p><p>    They were gone not soon after, fleeing with their tails tucked between their legs. And once it was deemed they were safe and no longer in danger, only then did Stiles pull the energy back into him. The fire touching the scorched ground began crawling backwards to settle back into the pit and the grass waved gently in the wind, as if the fire healed the ground’s burns while retreating. The darkness that took over the sky gradually cleared and the sun peered down upon the battered pack, who were left winded and breathless as all the tension in their muscles faded.</p><p>    Derek shot forward without a second of hesitation and caught Stiles in his arms before the male could hit the ground. He was limp and exhausted, having had to use whatever energy he had left to save everyone—to save <em> Derek </em>.</p><p>    “Are they gone?” Stiles asks, voice barely audible, as Derek cradled the male carefully in his arms.</p><p>    “They are.”</p><p>    “Good.” Derek tries not to watch the way Stiles’ tongue peaks out to lick his cracked lips. “Is… Is everyone alright?”</p><p>    Lifting his head, the alpha peers around to observe his pack. He sees Scott already on his feet and checking up on his girlfriend, Allison, by helping her out of the chains she was bound to. Jackson was on the ground, propped against the tree he was originally pinned to, as he held a distraught Lydia in his arms, pressing gentle kisses to her head in hopes to calm her down. Erica and Boyd were ignoring their own injuries as they yanked the wolfs-bane laced chains away from Isaac’s form. Once he was free, Isaac took both of their hands to leech their pain away as he was enveloped in their arms. Corey was standing off to the side with Mason, speaking to him quietly as he held his hands tightly. Malia spotted Kira and raced towards her to embrace her tightly while the kitsune held on to her like a lifeline. Aiden had spotted Ethan through the crowd, dashing over to him quickly to make sure he was alright. Liam was still unconscious but at least Theo was already there with him, holding his hand and leeching away the pain while Peter inspected his wounds.</p><p>    As if sensing Derek’s imploring stare, Peter glanced over at him and gave a small, but affirming nod.</p><p>    “Everyone’s fine,” Derek exhales as he carefully scoops an arm underneath Stiles’ knees, lifting him up to his chest to carry him bridal saddle. “A little banged up but we’re fine.”</p><p>    “Good” Stiles parrots softly, letting his head loll against Derek’s broad shoulder. “Are <em>you</em> okay, though, Sourwolf?”</p><p>    Despite their position, despite what had just happened and what just witnessed and despite how many times the alpha has to remind him to not call him that, Derek smiles. “I am. No thanks to you… You saved me, Stiles.”</p><p>    Stiles’ form shakes from a soft fit of laughter. “I make one hell of a Batman, don't you think?”</p><p>    Derek stares down at him and watches as Stiles closes his eyes, falling into a much deserved and needed slumber in order to regain his strength, he could feel the ice walls around his entire being be melted down to nothing. With Stiles’ warmth and the fire he emitted and carried with him, Derek knew he was in good hands. He knew he was safe and he knew that Stiles would break his back for this pack, even if it meant destroying himself to do so.</p><p>    (And if anyone saw how Derek carried the boy, protective and snug to his chest, growling at anyone who dared to come near, no one said a thing.)</p><hr/><p>    Derek’s birthday was always something the pack held sacred. While the alpha adamantly didn’t even want them to find out, didn’t want them to prepare a thing for him, he soon came to realize he was painfully outvoted. So all he could do was sit back and—</p><p>    “Brood even more with your Grumpy Eyebrows.” Stiles shot back. There was a cocky  grin on his face, a challenging glint in his ember eyes glowing as they stared back at the alpha.</p><p>    “Yeah, what he said.” Liam pips up from his efforts of hanging mistletoe in the archway to the kitchen.</p><p>    “Face it, Derbear—”</p><p>    “—<em>Do not </em> call me that—”</p><p>    Ignoring this, Stiles walks over to him and squeezes his shoulder. “You’re outmatched here. We’re celebrating your birthday whether you like it or not.” And with that, there was a lingering pat to the same shoulder before the warm palm is gone and Stiles is back at Lydia’s side to continue preparation.</p><p>    It was if they were going to war, honestly, with how they all huddled around the kitchen table with different kinds of paper laid out in front of them and speaking to themselves in hushed whispers. Whispers that Derek couldn't hear due to Stiles being sneaky and casting a silence hex around the room.</p><p>    (Derek likes to act like he’s annoyed by this. But every time his birthday comes up, every time December rolls in and he gets to witness his pack be like this in the kitchen at 3:23am, a warmth swells in his chest.)</p><p>    Even as the day gradually comes up and it’s time to both celebrate a well-known holiday and their favorite Grumpy Alpha’s birthday, Derek is content as he sits on the floor and box after box is shoved into his lap.</p><p>    “Here ya go” Stiles suddenly interrupted as he shoved a small box into Derek’s hands. He was breathing a little heavily like he had just run a marathon when, truthfully, he had sprinted up the stairs a few seconds ago without so much of a word only to return and nearly face-plant at the bottom of the stairs.</p><p>    Raising a skeptical brow, Derek reaches out to nimbly take the box, acting as if he was preparing for something to jump out at him. It was noticeably smaller than the other boxes handed to him. Not only that, but it was the only gift Stiles has given him so far. Usually, he’s being drowned in random things Stiles got him over the year. Things that Stiles got on impulse that reminded him of Derek.</p><p>    The room soon fell silent and now all eyes were on him. Derek rolls his eyes and easily tears the wrapping paper open with a single swipe of a claw. After removing the paper and throwing it at Scott, biting back a grin when it hits him directly in the face, Derek carefully cradles the wooden box in his palms. He’s a little confused and Stiles probably sensed it, for he reaches forward to point to the little silver hatch on the front-side of the box.</p><p>    “Open it,” Stiles says softly. Derek takes note of the little skip in Stiles’ heartbeat when his fingers flick the hatch open but he doesn’t point it out. Instead, he slowly lifts the lid to reveal the object held within.</p><p>    Stiles has always had a knack for surprises. Whenever it came to birthdays, Stiles was always the one to go all out. He pampered the <strike>un</strike>lucky birthday boy or birthday girl for the entire week. He always had the same plan: every day of the week, they would get to choose one present from the massive pile of gifts and they would be able to open it. Only when their birthday finally came at the end of the week would they be bombarded with the rest of gifts. It’s endearing, honestly, knowing that he puts so much effort in it. No one admits it, at least not out-loud, but it adds excitement to the normally dull event. Much like a spark itself, Stiles ignites excitement and happiness with everything he does.</p><p>    Stiles, however, didn’t have that same plan for Derek this year. Last year, yes, he did, but for the entire week, Stiles barely even talked to him. He seemed so preoccupied with something, always hiding out in his room and only coming out for food before scampering back up the stairs once finished. And don’t get Derek started on how he noticed the boy’s fingers would be covered in little bandages around his fingertips. Scott had laughed at Derek when he approached him with the mindset that Stiles was plotting something barbaric.</p><p>    The piece of jewelry that was laid gently on delicate, black velvet was long enough to be a necklace. It consisted of a light green suede yarn that was accented with coppery opponents and clear Celtic influences. There were some beads, colored copper and green, that were spaced out specifically so that each bead stood out—and knowing Stiles, the beads had specific meaning. At one end, the suede yarn was turned and tied into a loop, a latch to help secure the twisted cooper hook at the opposite end. Nestled right beside the hook was a small triskele charm.</p><p>    “It’s a wrap bracelet.” Stiles provides as he takes it out of the box.</p><p>    “Yeah, that you probably spent like $10 on.” Isaac scoffs.</p><p>    Immediately, Derek smells agitation rolling off of Stiles in small bellows and looks up. He sees the male’s expression pinch together to show just how <em> offended </em> he truly was.</p><p>    “Actually, asshole, I <em> made it</em>.”</p><p>    Derek’s breath stutters in his throat and when he speaks, his voice is barely a whisper. “You made this?”</p><p>    The agitation fades away within a second and instead is replaced with something akin to bashfulness and… something else that Derek doesn’t want to read into too much.</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “start of time” by gabrielle apin ]</b>
</p><p>    “Yeah, uh… It’s what I’ve been held up on for the past week.” Stiles explains as he begins to wrap the bracelet around Derek’s wrist. “The suede yarn has a protective hex threaded into it. I know you have werewolf senses and shit, but uh, it’s just supposed to help you sense things better especially if you’re in a sticky situation. The copper beads, I made them out of Salamander Tears. It may look like a gem but that was specifically because I shaped it to be that way. Salamander Tears actually come from sturdy palm trees whose trunk resembles the scales of a salamander. The sap has been known to be a cure for diseases, serious wounds, and…” drifting off, Stiles pauses briefly and flicks his eyes back up to Derek. “...It’s also said to be a protection against energy. Specifically, fire.”</p><p>    Snapping his head up, Derek stares at him in awe. He’s rendered speechless as his heart stutters and thumps away wildly in his chest.</p><p>    Stiles offers a shy smile in return before looking down at the bracelet, finally able to secure the hook through the loop before pointing to another green bead. “This is called an Amran. It’s a vine that grows a thick stem that actually resembles bark. While its crimson leaves are definitely not something you should ingest, the bark is actually quite useful. It’s used to restore drained abilities, cure deafness, and remove paralysis. I thought it would make a good addition since sometimes we run into Kanimas, no offense Jackson.”</p><p>    Jackson holds his hands up in mock surrender. “None taken.”</p><p>    “I made the hook here out of bark from a Blackthorn Tree.” Stiles continues on, sitting down on the armrest of the couch Derek was currently occupying. “A Blackthorn is said to represent strength, truth, protection, and authority. The Triskele pendant, however, I carved out of a Willow Tree. Willow Tree’s are rumored to help with fertility, flexibility, protection, healing, intuition, and grieving.”</p><p>    “Damn, Stiles,” Allison gawks, running a finger gently over the triskele. “You really made all of this? Like <em>handmade</em> it all?”</p><p>    “Yup,” Stiles answers, popping the ‘p’. “From the yarn to the beads and even the hook and pendant. Took some time and a lot of mishaps, which was why my hands were always bandaged. So many damn splinters. I actually think I missed a few. You should’ve seen it. There was this big ol’ chunk of wood sticking straight out of my thumb and—”</p><p>    “Thank you.” Derek exhales, finally able to find his words. Stiles’ rambling immediately ceases as he looks over at the male. He blinks once, twice, before smiling kindly at him.</p><p>    “Happy Birthday, Derek.” He says gently. “But, one more thing.” Derek watches curiously as he mindlessly runs his thing along the beads of the bracelet. Stiles is yanking his sleeve up to his elbow to reveal the tree tattoo on his right forearm. Looking closely, Derek begins to see little lights appear on each branch, blinking several different colors. Red, blue, green, gold. The lights appear one by one before a small star slowly comes into view at the very crown of the tree, glowing a soft yellow hue.</p><p>
  <em>    “Merry Christmas.” </em>
</p><p>    (Even as everyone falls back into their own conversations, Stiles remains by the alpha’s side, sleeve still rolled up with all of the lights twinkling gleefully. Derek’s eyes have never left the boy’s face not once for the remainder of the night. His chest was so tight, lungs constricting with something heavy yet tranquil. A feeling that flowed through his veins. A feeling that he was sure he wasn’t able to ever come across again, but refused to name. Refused to accept it, even as he stared at Stiles' lips longer than he should have. Even as he looked over and saw Scott and Peter staring at him with all-too-knowing grins on their faces. Maybe they knew, but Derek liked to hope that they wouldn’t go and tell everyone.)</p><p>    (They didn’t.)</p><hr/><p>    Running on the nights of full moon’s soon became tradition. Tradition that only the werewolves really took part of. Sometimes others like Lydia and Allison would tag along, walking behind to enjoy the crisp night air before they all surrounded a campfire for some s’mores. But most of the time, it was mainly just the wolves of the pack with a special little addition.</p><p>    “Why are you wearing that?” Peter grouses, disgust mixed with agitation laced in his tone. “Is this some sort of joke to you?”</p><p>    “Oh trust me, Uncle Creepy, I live in a world with supernatural beings lurking around me on a daily basis.” Stiles deadpans as he shoves his arms through the red hoodie. “Everything’s a joke to me.”</p><p>    “So, what, you’re gonna play Little Red Riding?” Isaac guessed with a look of doubt flitting across his eyes. He was studying the hoodie like it was Ancient Greek and he was trying to decipher it.</p><p>    “Yeah, wouldn’t it be funny?” Stiles grins over at them, straightening the article of clothing once his head slips through the collar.  “Little Red Riding Hood running with wolves during a full moon.”</p><p>    Malia can’t help but laugh. “Man, Stiles, you’re something. I like it, though, keep it up.”</p><p>    Peter turns his head to shoot an incredulous look in Derek's direction. “Are you <em> really </em>going to let him run with us?”</p><p>    Glancing over at Stiles, it seems that he and Derek have some sort of telepathic conversation going. Stiles wore this excited grin but his ember eyes had a spark of hope in them; like he was secretly worried that Derek would actually say no.</p><p>    “I don’t see why not.” Scott shrugs passively, like the idea was no big deal. “I don’t see an issue with it. Derek?”</p><p>    The other alpha hums thoughtfully before turning towards the door, lifting a hand to make a <em>‘come on’</em> hand motion over his shoulder. “I would say try to keep up, but I have a feeling you won't be able to.”</p><p><b>[ playlist </b> <b>↺</b> <b> “wicked ones” by dorothy ]</b></p><p>    He hears Stiles let out a loud cheer of delight, followed by Peter’s groan of despair, and feels himself smiling a little bit. Stepping out into the moonlight, Derek tips his head up to the sky and closes his eyes, letting the feeling swarm all around him and wraps itself around his senses, his instincts. He doesn’t even feel himself shifting into full wolf mode, doesn’t sense the difference at first. Only when he opens his eyes and realizes he’s a lot closer to the ground does he realize his wolf took over completely. Turning to look behind him, spotting his fellow wolves, only being able to half shift, behind him, his eyes glowed crimson once they landed on Scott. Scott offered a lopsided smirk as his eyes returned the same color.</p><p>    “Man, that’s so badass.” Stiles admires below his breath.</p><p>    “Careful, Stiles,” Theo teases lightheartedly, “Your crush is showing.”</p><p>    “Fuck off.”</p><p>    Derek takes off running in a split second and his departure is met with loud howling before everyone is giving chase. Stiles grins to himself and takes off after them. Though he’s nowhere near the speed they are, he keeps an equal match to them; sticking close behind without a stutter in his step. He’s jumping over fallen trees and roots sticking haphazardly out of the ground, ducking down to ignore low hanging branches and dancing around trees. He could hear the stomping of the other wolves running alongside him, the wicked hyena laughter from Erica and Boyd’s chuckles. Scott’s little cheers and <em>‘woo-hoo’</em> threading through the air bringing a sense of carefree child-like excitement. </p><p>    To his left, Theo and Liam are running and trying to trip each other, big smiles smacked on their faces. Eventually, Theo does trip and Liam cackles as he races on. </p><p>    To his right, Malia is having a friendly race against her father. They’re both equal matches, although he can clearly see Peter struggling to keep by her side.</p><p>    Up ahead, he spots Erica, whose laughter still rings loud and clear through the air, racing towards Boy before leaping up on his back. He easily catches her, undeterred, and continues running like he wasn’t carrying a full werewolf on his back. Isaac was running beside them, easily keeping match with their pace despite still being so new at this. Boyd suddenly shifts gears and releases his hold on Erica, though her limbs continue to hold on to the beta firmly. Instead, he swiftly scoops Isaac up and tosses him over his shoulder, letting out a loud howl that mixed with Isaac’s shocked yelp and Erica’s cackles.</p><p>    Jackson is running alongside Aiden and Ethan. They seem to run in such perfect rhythm, like they were all each other’s mirrors. Whenever Jackson dodged to the left, Ethan moved to the right while Aiden charged forward. They were a deadly threesome when paired together.</p><p>    And way up ahead, he spots Scott running alongside a massive sleek black wolf whose large paws broke the loose dirt beneath them.</p><p>    Stiles feels a thrill of excitement pound through him. Even though he’s not a wolf, he can still feel the effects of the full moon and the impacts it has on the rest of his pack. It’s like he channels their adrenaline and enhances his own.</p><p>    He never thought running with wolves would be this exhilarating. Stiles always saw them dash off into the woods, hearing their howls and laughter fade into the night. They wouldn’t return for hours and he always wondered what they would do. Would they just run? All night? Wouldn’t they get tired of it eventually? Probably not. For whenever they did return, just an hour before sunrise, they were out of breath and sweaty but happy, content, and still buzzing with energy. Now that he was actually able to join them, Stiles finally understood.</p><p>    Pushing himself to go faster, he grits his teeth when he feels his legs scream at him. He definitely should’ve stretched before deciding to take off in a full blown sprint.</p><p>    The wolves are dancing around him. Moving left to right and right to left, running ahead of him before deliberately falling behind him. They were all around him in a protective circle, making sure he was able to handle the run with them but also making sure he didn't get left behind. He nearly steers off the path when the mess of Erica, Boyd, and Isaac about barrel him over but Theo’s guiding hands steered him right back on the path.</p><p>    “On your left,” Liam mutters as he passes by.</p><p>    “How dare you quote Captain America right now!” Stiles shrills, running faster to try to catch up with the beta. Liam’s laughter resonates through the air as he swoops around the three tangled betas. He sees a flash of red to his right and quickly whips his head around, spotting the large wolf at his side. Derek side-eyes him and although he can’t actually speak, Stiles can tell he's being asked if he's alright.</p><p>    But Stiles only grins at him. “Never better, Derbear.”</p><p>    The wolf growls in warning. Stiles snickers softly before suddenly turning off the path. It seems to catch Derek off-guard, for he hears the confused little grunt and him skidding to a halt to avoid crashing into a tree. He doesn’t even need to look back to know that Derek was now following him, and quickly gaining; taking up Stiles’ unspoken challenge. The laughter, the howls, the grunts—they all seem to fade the further away they become. Instead, all Stiles hears is the wind whipping past his ears and the twigs crunching under his Converses. The adrenaline is pumping through his veins and he could feel his heart <em> p-p-pounding </em> in his chest.</p><p>    A clearing is spotted up ahead and Stiles can see a riverbed through the gaps of trees. He grins and runs even faster. Hearing Derek emit a grunt of protest, Stiles pushes himself more and more before leaping up with a small shout. And he glides. Glides through the air, right over the water like it was a piece of cake. Once his feet touch the other side, he nearly falls over just before turning around to observe the wolf behind him. It’s hesitant and reluctant to travel through the water. If It wasn’t for Stiles’ abilities, he definitely wouldn’t have been able to jump that thing.</p><p>    The triumphant smirk tugged at Stiles’ lips as he reached up to pull the hood over his head. “Looks like <em>Little Red</em> just won the race against the <em>Big Bad Wolf</em>.” He knows taunting Derek will probably end badly, which is why he immediately takes off when there’s a loud growl. There’s splashing coming from behind him and Stiles curses to himself, ignoring the pull and strain in his legs to run faster.</p><p>    The last thing he wants is to be tackled by a wet wolf.</p><p>    He hears a howl coming from the distance and recognizes it as Scott’s. It wasn’t in distress, just a mere signal to let the rest of them know where he was. Stiles makes a sharp turn and dashes in the direction of the howl, hearing Derek skid straight into a tree the second he turns.</p><p>    Turns out, laughing when you’re running kind of hurts. However, what hurts more is being football tackled into the dirt by something that weighs almost two-hundred pounds. Stiles grunts and feels pain bloom across his face and hands. He doesn’t quite know what he hits but he could tell it made an impact on his cheek pretty good.</p><p>    “Ow—Jesus, Derek! Why’d you do that?!” Stiles tries, in vain, to squirm and get out from beneath the wolf. Derek huffs in response before flopping down on him, trapping the poor soul completely under his dead weight. “Derek! C’mon, man, you’re frickin 'soaked! Get off of me! <em> Derek Hale! </em> Don’t make me ground you!”</p><p>    By the time they make it back to where the other wolves are, the giant wolf is, surprisingly, letting Stiles ride his back. They get questioning stares but once they notice the scrape on Stiles’ cheek, his bloody hands, his swollen ankle, and that both of them were <em> completely </em> soaked, they decide asking would only lead to more confusion.</p><p>    “Do you run for the entire night?” Stiles asks, still trying to catch his breath.</p><p>    “Only when the moon is about to set.” Isaac answered. “The effects of the full moon fade once there’s a peak of the sun above the horizon.”</p><p>    Fishing his phone out of his pocket, Stiles quickly looks up what time the sunrise will be. “That’s in two hours.”</p><p>    “Then we got two more hours of running. Whaddaya say, Stiles? Still think your puny ass can handle it?” Jackson dared, smirking all cocky and smug at him. Before Stiles could even open his mouth to reply, Derek emitted a loud grunt and Scott had to slap a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.</p><p>    “What?” Stiles blinks dumbly, looking at the snickering wolves. “What’s so funny?”</p><p>    No one answers him. But by Jackson’s affronted expression and everyone either holding himself from laughing or just laughing anyways, Derek obviously ‘said’ something smart to him.</p><p>    “Ya’know, this whole secret language y’all got going on, it’s beyond unfair. The one time he says something smart and I don’t even know what it was!” Stiles guffaws, throwing his arms up in the air. “Mutiny, I say! <em>Mutiny!</em>”</p><p>    “He basically said that your scrawny ass is capable of a lot of things.” Malia provides, doing her best to hide her snickers behind her hand. Stiles could feel all the blood rush to his cheeks and Derek seemed to sense that he was incredibly flustered. The wolf shook his head and made another noise towards Scott.</p><p>    The True Alpha perked up visibly in interest. “Oh? Alright. Derek purposes a race, everyone! Whoever arrives last at the house will have to clean up after dinner.”</p><p>    “And what of the person who arrives first?” Ethan asks.</p><p>    Scott glances at Derek, who makes another noise, and grins. “They’re in charge of Pack Night for the rest of the month.”</p><p>    That sets a chain of reaction <em>immediately</em>. Everyone scrambles over each other so they can all form a line. </p><p>    Being Head of Pack Night has usually been Scott’s or Derek’s job. As alphas, it was their night to choose what the pack would do. Since Derek is a major homebody, he always sticks with Netflix and cuddle-piles. Scott, being the nerd he was, will choose a game night. Despite the other pack member’s constant objections to do something new, the two alphas never strayed away from their norm. So now that the proposition is on the table, everyone was eager to snag that honor.</p><p>    Stiles leans forward carefully and lets his palm slide through the wolf’s thick coat, flattening against the side of his neck. He dips his head to let his lips brush against the wolf’s ear, feeling it twitch when his warm breath tickled it.</p><p>
  <em>     “Go.” </em>
</p><p>    He has to hold on as tight as he could so he doesn’t get flung off because, man, if he thought running alongside a pack of wolves was exhilarating, riding one was <em> even better </em>. </p><p>    Derek is like a bolt of lightning, zooming his way through the trees without being so much as winded with the speed he’s accumulating. Stiles could barely breathe, hands gripping tightly on to the fur as he leaned back, letting the wind yank his hood off his head. The wind is brisk and it’s blowing straight through his soaked clothes, spreading goosebumps on his pale skin. Stiles knows he’ll probably get sick later and will get scolded on it for whatever reason but he can’t find himself to care. Not with the alpha turning its head to peer back at him, crimson eyes glinting in mischief and teeth baring in what was supposed to be a grin.</p><p>    “Run.” Stiles gasps, eyes wide and smile wistful. “Run, alpha. <em> Run.</em>”</p><p>    Tipping its head back, the wolf lets out a long howl before charging forward with increased speed.</p><p>    When they arrive back at the house, they’re the first ones there and the sun is about to peak up over the horizon. Stiles hops off his back and Derek quickly morphs back to catch him when he stumbles and tips over. </p><p>    (Stiles tries to not let the fact that Derek is <em> stark naked </em> and guiding him into the house because that would be one hell of a conversation on why he suddenly popped a boner.)</p><p>    “Oh you’re back—” Lydia’s cheer cuts off immediately when she turns to look at them. At first, Stiles thinks it’s because of Derek but then she’s in front of him in a heartbeat, fretting about the blood on his cheek and his busted lip. Derek passes the reins to Kira so that he could go upstairs and get dressed.</p><p>    “See?” Lydia tuts as she finishes wrapping up his ankle. “This is what happens when a human runs with wolves.”</p><p>    “By the way,” Mason pipes up and Stiles has to hold his breath because, oh no, he knows that look. “Why the hell was Derek naked?”</p><p>    “Because he let Stiles ride him.” Jackson’s response was immediate. Stiles feels his face grow hot and he hurls a crumpled napkin at him, not that it would do much.</p><p>    (The next day, Stiles does wake up with a cold and a pretty good fever. Lydia scolds him, like she always does, but it’s worth it when Derek sheepishly enters his room with a tray of his favorite soup and some medicine.)</p><hr/><p>    Training Days were brutal and straining for everyone. Scott and Derek were relentless in their teachings, rarely ever allowing anyone to take a break. Normal days like this would start in the crisp mornings from 8am and last all the way until midnight. If the alphas felt that the betas were lacking in some areas, they would extend it for another two hours until everyone passed out.</p><p>    Stiles, thankfully, gets to sit out this night’s training due to his sprained ankle. At least, the physical part. Deaton usually attends their Training Days to help Stiles strengthen his abilities and to possibly help him harness new ones.</p><p>    “How’s your progress in spell casting?” Deaton asks as he flips through his notes. “Have you tried any other spells aside from the ones I wrote down for you and simple hexes?”</p><p>    “I can summon something!” Stiles about jumps for joy, the excitement and eagerness overpowering. Amused, Deaton closes the binder and makes a <em>‘go ahead’</em> gesture. “It’s nothing too extreme. I didn’t wanna mess with that kind of stuff yet until you deemed I was ready for something more advanced.”</p><p>    “Stiles, you’ve pretty much mastered being a Spark.” Deaton reassured. “It’s the Witchcraft part that we’re working on now. So, what were you able to summon?”</p><p>    Smiling, Stiles lifts his arm and curls his hand into a loose fist. He takes a deep breath and concentrates for a few seconds before slowly uncurling his hand. Deaton blinks in surprise as dozens upon dozens of Monarch butterflies begin flying out of his palm, gracefully flowing through the air around them. Slowly, one by one, members of the pack halt to a gradual stop when they see the massive group of insects flying around them. The mass of butterflies swarm around each of them before eventually beginning to return back to the one silently calling them.</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “freaking me out” by ava max ]</b>
</p><p>    “Wow,” Theo exhales breathlessly, “I didn’t know he was capable of doing this kind of stuff.”</p><p>    “Did you honestly think Stiles is <em>only</em> capable of destruction?” Allison asks in an accusatory tone.</p><p>    He shoots her a flat look. “That’s not what I meant.”</p><p>    “But you thought it.” Scott concludes, eyes transfixed on how the butterflies are trailing up Stiles’ arm or landing on his shoulders. “Everyone did.”</p><p>    “I didn’t.” Derek murmurs softly. “Stiles is much more than that. Just because he’s a Spark doesn’t mean he ignites just fire.”</p><p>    Lydia studies the way the alpha is staring at Stiles and folds her arms across her chest. “Then tell us something, Derek… What does Stiles spark for <em> you</em>?”</p><p>Derek feels his throat constrict, choking on whatever excuse he was about to utter. One glance over at Stiles—watching as now there was only one Monarch fluttering on the tip of Stiles’ pointer finger, the way Stiles’ smile is so big and excited, like he just won an Olympic Gold Metal—and it all just vanished yet pieces together at the same time. It all suddenly makes sense but it all makes him more confused than ever.</p><p>    Stiles. The boy with too much sarcasm than he should have and a fetish for talking their opponent to near insanity.</p><p>    Stiles. The boy with long lashes, deep ember eyes that Derek could never get enough of, and beauty marks peppering his pale skin.</p><p>    Stiles. The lanky human that stood out in their pack like a sore thumb. Ungraceful and clumsy yet always willing to throw himself into the fire so that no one else could get burned.</p><p>    Stiles. The boy who always carried a match with him, ready to spark anything in his wake if threatened enough to do so. Whether it’d be a circle of fire or a blazing heat that surged through Derek’s veins.</p><p>    The boy was everywhere and in everything. In the air, his scent burrowed deep into the alpha’s senses, engraved in memory and bringing a sense of familiarity, comfort, <em> security</em>. A level of security that Derek hasn’t felt in a <em> long time </em>, not ever since the tragedy of his first love.</p><p>    Ironically, Stiles reminds him of Paige. Her wit, her loyalty, and her spirit. He saw Paige in Stiles and distantly wondered if reincarnation was a thing. Stiles had pale skin like her, had beauty marks like her. Deep brown eyes and dark hair. Stiles saw straight through Derek’s hollow words and empty threats, through the barrier of toughness he put up, just like she did. </p><p>    But now, instead of seeing Paige when he thinks of love, he only sees Stiles’ galaxy eyes sparking a warmth through his once empty heart.</p><p>    “Oh.” Peter whispers in realization. “<em>Oh.</em>”</p><p>    He doesn’t clarify what he put together, but he doesn’t need to.</p><p>    They call off Training Night early.</p><hr/><p>    Derek burrows himself in his room for the rest of the night. The need to be secluded and away from judgement, or even mockery, was something that he couldn’t ignore. He had to wrap his head around this fully before being able to face them—before being able to face <em> Stiles</em>.</p><p>    There’s a single picture of Paige that Derek kept after all these years, tucked away deep in one of his drawers. It’s withered around the edges, showing its age, but never hindering the breath-taking beauty that Paige undoubtedly was. She was sitting at one of the picnic tables at school. Book opened wide in front of her with a notebook beside it. Highlighter in left hand, pen in the other, and pencil between her teeth. Her long locks were pulled back in a loose pony-tail and strands of deep brown had fallen out, framing her face. Eyebrows pulled together in concentration, she had no idea that he snuck a photo of her during one of their private tutor lessons.</p><p>    The memory of her still pulls at his heart strings, pinging a dull ache between his temples. He had to take a deep breath and close his eyes to calm his raging emotions, to hold back the sting of tears in his eyes. </p><p>    She was young. <em> Too </em> young. She didn’t deserve to die. Not like that.</p><p>    He’s pulling his phone out of his pocket before he really understands why. He’s dialing a number he memorized by heart before he really registers just <em> who </em> he’s calling.</p><p>
  <em>     “Hello?” </em>
</p><p>    “Hey, uh… It’s me.”</p><p>
  <em>     “Derek? What can I help you with? Is something wrong?” </em>
</p><p>    “No, no. Not at all. I just, uhm… I have a question and I figured you were the only one who actually knew the answer to.”</p><p>    Deaton lightly chuckles on the other side of the phone. <em> “I don’t like to think I have the answer to all the questions that exist in the world, but I will do my best. What’s bothering you, Derek?” </em></p><p>    A breath. “Do you think reincarnation is real?”</p><p>    There’s a brief pause before, <em> “Reincarnation? Now that’s a new one… What makes you so concerned about reincarnation?” </em></p><p>    “I just…” Derek closes his eyes and exhales slowly. “I just need to know. It’s personal.”</p><p>
  <em>     “Alright, well… Given the world that we live in, surely anything is possible. Say, now that I think about it, didn’t Scott mention Allison being a reincarnation of that one Argent that killed La Bete?” </em>
</p><p>    Derek sits up quickly, eyes wide. “Yeah! Yeah, he… It was when they were going against the Dread Doctors! La Bête du Gévaudan.”</p><p>
  <em>     “Correct. Scott says that when the beast was about to kill him, a sudden memory of Allison made the beast stop.” </em>
</p><p>    “Allison made the beast remember his sister, who slayed him in the past.”</p><p>
  <em>     “Allison, who is a direct descendant of the Maid of Gévaudan.” </em>
</p><p>    There’s a bit of silence before Derek rushed out a quick thank you before hanging up. He’s tossing his phone aside and pulling his laptop close, starting it up and waiting impatiently for everything to load. Quick to type it into the search engine, he immediately begins researching La Bête du Gévaudan and the history behind the legendary beast. He wasn’t there for the first half of the fight due to being all the way in Mexico (long story) so he only got bits and pieces of it when he returned.</p><p><em>     Marie-Jeanne Valet </em>. She was the sister of Sebastian Valet, famously known for being La Bête. She had forged a steel spear head made out of fleur-de-lis mixed with mountain ash and wolfsbane. There was even a painting of what she had looked like back in 1767, and she was a mirror image to Allison.</p><p>    Derek’s breath is shaky when he starts research on reincarnation and resurrection. There’s tears in his eyes but he can’t tell if he’s hopeful or fearful of what’s about to come.</p><p>    There isn’t much information about reincarnation, only myths and people saying that they believe they exist. There’s stories that seem credible and believable however it’s not what Derek is looking for. He’s searched the web high and low for any answer pertaining to his particular issue but there’s nothing. </p><p>    With a frustrated growl, he shoves the laptop away from him and harshly runs his hands through his hair. Letting himself lean against the headboard of his bed frame, Derek closes his eyes and focuses on steadying his breathing and heart-rate; not wanting to risk alarming any of the wolves, if they’re awake at least. It takes a moment or so before he’s opening his eyes and peering over at the photo he took of her. Reaching out for the photo, he turns it around to look at the pack, where there was some writing in smeared blue ink.</p><p>
  <em>     Paige Krasikeva. Fall 2003. </em>
</p><p>    He smiles softly and runs his thumb over the name. Just like that, something sparks realization. With a soft gasp, he puts the photo down and pulls the laptop close once more. He types in “Krasikeva” into the search bar. There’s little to no results Out of desperation, Derek grabs his phone calls Deaton once more.</p><p>
  <em>     “Derek. Are you aware of what time it is?” </em>
</p><p>    “Yes, yes, and I’m sorry for bothering you so much tonight. I promise it’ll be short.”</p><p>
  <em>     “No need to fret, Derek. I’m always happy to help. Is there something you need?” </em>
</p><p>    “Are you able to translate a name for me?”</p><p>
  <em>     “A name?” </em>
</p><p>    “Yeah, don’t some names have meanings in different languages?” It’s a long shot, but if it’ll bring the answers he needs, then he’ll shoot it.</p><p>    Deaton hums thoughtfully. <em> “I suppose you’re right. What’s the name?” </em></p><p>    “Krasikeva.”</p><p>
  <em>     “Krasikeva… That sounds like it would Slavic.” </em>
</p><p>    “Does it mean anything?”</p><p><em> “    Well, krasi and keva are two separate Slavic elements. Keva means gentle, beautiful and precious. While Krasi means…” </em> Deaton trails off for a second before he’s chuckling, <em> “Actually, Derek, Krasi meant resurrect.” </em></p><p>    And that’s all it takes for the air to get knocked out of his lungs and for the tears to fall down his cheeks. It’s what Deaton says before Derek hangs up that really gets his chest tight.</p><p>    The words are echoing in his head even as he shuts the laptop and puts it away for the night. They’re still echoing, clean and clear, even as he climbs out of his bed, making his way out of his room and down the hall towards a particular door. He doesn’t bother knocking, already knowing the room’s occupant is knocked out cold judging by their quiet snores. Derek carefully twists the knob and nudges the door open,  just enough for him to be able to see Stiles sprawled out on his queen sized bed, bathed in moonlight from the open window his bed was propped against.</p><p>
  <em>     “Her name basically means beautiful resurrection.” </em>
</p><p>    Derek cries himself to sleep that night.</p><hr/><p>    Stiles is a lot more smarter than he’s given credit for. So it’s needless to say that he easily takes notice of Derek’s strange behavior towards him. It starts off simple and small at first. Derek is not really speaking to him unless directly spoken to, and even then it’s normally with short replies and the guy won’t even look at him. That behavior continues for at least a week before it takes another more brutal turn. </p><p>    Derek, much to Scott’s objections, begins uninviting Stiles to pack meetings. Uninviting him to pack nights quickly turns into uninviting him to Training Days and even running with them during the upcoming full moon.</p><p>    “Okay, what the hell is your problem?” Stiles about knocks the poor door off its hinges when he storms into the house one evening. “Why are you pushing me out of the pack?”</p><p>    “What are you doing here, Stiles?” Derek diverts stoically, finding whatever piece of paper he had in his hands much more interesting than Stiles’ glistening eyes.</p><p>    “What do you think I’m doing here?” Stiles snaps, placing his hands on the table. “I <em> live here</em>, genius! Now are you going to answer my question or not?!”</p><p>    The papers hit the table with an audible smack and only then does Derek <em> finally </em> look at him. “Are you going to be even more of a pest than you usually are or can we get back to our meeting?”</p><p>    “Derek.” Scott exclaims, sensing the stutter in Stiles’ pulse.</p><p>    “Is that what I am to you?” Stiles continues to push, demanding answers. “Is that what I am to all of you?”</p><p>    Allison steps forward, hand held out towards Stiles. “Stiles, no—”</p><p>    “Yes.” Derek cuts in firmly. His voice is steady and his stare remains transfixed on the boy in front of him.</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “who are you?” by svrcina ]</b>
</p><p>    “Okay,” Isaac holds his arms up, blinking rapidly in confusion, <em>“what the actual fuck?”</em></p><p>    “Derek, what are you doing?” Peter snarls from his side.</p><p>    “Doing what’s best for the pack.” Derek answers simply as he folds his arms across his chest and exhales. “We can’t have someone hold us back anymore.”</p><p>    “Hold you back?” Stiles laughs bitterly. “That’s <em> rich </em> coming from you.”</p><p>    “What is the matter with you?” Kira gawks.</p><p>    Erica leans across the table to give her alpha a not so subtle glare. “Derek, before I decide to launch across the table at you, you better explain your behavior <em> right now</em>.”</p><p>    “No, no.” Stiles holds his hand up, stopping anyone from saying anything more. “I get it. <em>I get it.</em> I’ll pack my shit and go. But riddle me this, oh <em> Big Bad Wolf</em>.” There’s bitterness to his tone that Derek’s never heard. Or, at least, he has but it was never aimed at him.</p><p>    “Are you really doing what’s best for the pack?” Stiles challenges with narrowed eyes. “Or doing what’s best for <em> you </em>?”</p><p>    It’s over quicker than Derek thought it would be. The next thing he knows, Stiles is walking out of the house with a duffel bag of his clothes. He won’t answer anyone when asked where he’s going to go, just says that they’ll know how to find him if they ever decide to need him.</p><p>    “Derek,” Peter sighs once the front door slams shut, “I’m sure you’re probably doing this because we're about to face but I don’t think that was the correct way of doing it.”</p><p>    “What gives him the right excuse to ever think that was the right thing to do?!” Liam bellows and gestures an arm towards the door. “He just kicked Stiles <em> out of the pack</em>!”</p><p>    “He’s emotionally constipated,” Malia groused, scrunching her nose in distaste. “I can smell it on him.”</p><p>    “And that’s significant <em> because</em>?” Jackson drawls.</p><p>    Rolling his eyes, Peter decides to do the talking. “Because, surprise surprise, Kate Argent is coming back full throttle now that she harnessed her new abilities. Kate, who burned down our house and killed our entire family, is now teamed up with those witches we faced a few months ago—remember them? The ones who nearly burnt Derek? Yeah, them. They’re back.”</p><p>    “...I still don’t get why Derek is acting like an ass.” Theo scoffs. “Yes, we’re in one hell of a position right now but I don’t think that justifies dismissing one of our most powerful pack members.”</p><p>    “Don’t you see?” Peter prodded even more. “The witches will want Stiles. And seeing how targeting Stiles will affect <em>all</em> of us, especially <em> Derek </em> over there, Kate will use that to her advantage. Kate will use Stiles as a bargaining chip to get what she wants from all of us. Whatever that may be.”</p><p>    “But don’t you think separating him from the pack is a bad idea?” Liam comments. “That leaves him alone. Unprotected. Facing all of them like that, even I don’t think he’d have the strength to do it.”</p><p>    “Nevermind that.” Derek orders through his teeth. “We need to figure out what our next step is. We can’t risk them invading the town like last time.”</p><p>    The subject was quickly dropped with a sharp look and crimson eyes, however, the meeting was solemn and quiet. No one really spoke or gave ideas and they didn’t have much to go on. And when they went to bed later that night, Derek noticed all the looks he was getting as they all went to their rooms one by one.</p><p>    “I hope you know what you’re doing.” Scott says quietly once everyone leaves. “Because it’s taking <em> me </em> everything to not tear your throat out.”</p><p>    (When Derek lays his head on his pillow and lets sleep take over, he fails to hear a sound off in the distance. Of horses echoing through the night and the sound of their hooves pounding into the ground.)</p><hr/><p>    He shouldn’t be here. He should’ve never come. He should’ve ignored Scott’s call for help. He should’ve ignored it. He should’ve turned and high-tailed it out of there. Not just for Derek’s sake but for his own.</p><p>    Much like predicted, Kate came in like a warrior on a stallion. She pretended that she was a martyr for her fallen father and the Coven of Witches were her chosen subject and weapon of revenge, of justice. The only thing that they didn’t predict was the fact that the Ghost Riders have randomly made an appearance and are taking down <em> anyone </em> in sight. There’s chaos everywhere and Scott is doing is best to keep his pack members in sight, fearful for history repeating once more. It nearly took the pack apart when Lydia was taken away from them and he can’t risk having it happen a second time.</p><p>    Another thing they didn’t predict was Stiles. When the pack arrived, Stiles was already there, although unwillingly. He had been captured much like Liam speculated a few days prior. He was beaten and bounded heavily with stronger restraints that were clearly laced with better hexes.</p><p>    They were at a loss of what to do.</p><p>    Suddenly, the deafening whistle of one of the witches causes everyone to stop. The noise was so piercing that it sent all of the wolves down onto their knees with blood trickling out of their ears.</p><p>    “We have an ultimatum.” Kate compromises. She stood in the middle of the field with the witches by her side and the Ghost Riders behind her. Stiles was knelt on the ground in front of her, held pulled back with her harsh grip in his hair.</p><p>    “We’ll return your precious little human back on <em> one </em> condition.”</p><p>    “Somehow I doubt you’ll uphold your end of the bargain.” Peter sneers through his fangs.</p><p>    Kate mocks hurt and reaches up to place her free hand over her chest. “Oh my, that hurts, Peter. It really does. But, here me out. We’ll return—oh darn, what’s his name again, Sapphire?”</p><p>    Sapphire, now that she was named, was still recognizably the Head of the Coven. “Stiles. His name is Stiles.”</p><p>    “Right. <em>Stiles.</em>” Kate snaps her fingers. “What an interesting name, by the way, but I think we all know that’s not your <em> real </em> name.”</p><p>    “Are you really just figuring that out now?” Stiles grunts softly. “Guess the apple does fall far from the tree.”</p><p>    “Don’t test me.” Kate warns sternly.</p><p>    “What do you want?” Derek yells, turning her attention away from Stiles.</p><p>    “Oh, I want what I’ve always wanted.” Kate answers, batting her lashes innocently.</p><p>    “You can’t have him.” Scott interjects, quickly moving in front of the other alpha. “He’s not your toy!”</p><p>    Kate coos quietly at him before shaking her head. She reaches down and, suddenly, all the restraints binding Stiles’ arms behind his back are gone. It causes Stiles to fall forward with a surprised yelp. “I know it’s easy to guess that I want you, Derek, I know it really is. Here’s this: you can have your Stiles back and I’ll give you two more chances to figure it out. Sound fair?”</p><p>    “Stiles!” Lydia calls out as she takes a few steps forward. From the looks of it, Stiles could barely move. His arms were shaking visibly as he tried to push himself up off the ground. Rolling her eyes, Kate nods her head at Sapphire as if giving her some sort of cue. Sapphire chuckles and raises her hand, using her magic to levitate Stiles’ limp body up in the air and slowly gliding him through the air before releasing her hold. Derek races forward in a rush to catch him, but the force ends up making him fall to his knees. He feels the harsh forest ground dig painfully into his ripped jeans, tearing at the battered flesh.</p><p>    “I got you, I got you” Derek pants, keeping his hands gentle and steady on Stiles’ shoulders. A few others race over towards and Scoff helps Stiles into a seated position.</p><p>    “Oh my god, what did they do to you?” Mason shakily asks.</p><p>    “Doesn’t matter.” Stiles grits out. “She only did this to me as a message.”</p><p>    “A message?” Kira looks between him and Derek in confusion. “What message?”</p><p>    Steadying himself, Stiles closes his eyes for a second before reopening them and glancing over at Derek. “That regardless of how this night goes, she’s going to get what she wants.”</p><p>    “Are you talking about Kate or Sapphire?” Peter asks for clarification. “‘Cause there’s more than one 'she' out there.”</p><p>    “All of them.” Stiles says quietly. “They’re all going to get what they want.”</p><p>    “And the Ghost Riders?” Mason exclaims, gesturing over at them wildly. “What about them? I thought we killed them!”</p><p>    “You only ran into a few of them.” Stiles deadpans with a cocked eyebrow. “There are many more Ghost Riders than you know.”</p><p>    Throwing his arms up, Isaac has to turn away for a second to try to gather his bearings. “So what are we supposed to do? It seems that no matter what we do, things will not go our way.”</p><p>    “Let it happen.” Stiles replies after a moment of silence. That causes Isaac to whip around with a surprised expression. “Their eyes are on all of us. They want revenge for things <em> we </em> caused.”</p><p>    “I don’t hear any guesses!” Kate shouts from a distance. “I thought you guys would be more fun than this. I guess not.”</p><p>    “But I don’t get it.” Allison rambles in panic. “I don’t get it. I-I don’t—”</p><p>    “Let it happen.” Stiles reaches up to touch her arm. “Trust me… This is the only way of things settling down. Once and for all.”</p><p>    Derek frowns. Something’s up. Something is definitely up and he can tell with the way something akin to forlorn is leaking from Stiles' scent.</p><p>    “Stiles—”</p><p>    “Time’s up.” Kate interrupts, suddenly a lot closer than before. “Since none of you guessed what I wanted, well, I guess I’m just going to have to do it.”</p><p>    “No wait—” Scott pleads, quickly getting to his feet. Kate ignores this, however, and lifts her hand up to signal someone. And suddenly, a Ghost Rider comes charging through the field right at them. Instinctively, Scott and Jackson go to protect Lydia. Mason, Liam, and Theo jump in front of Corey.</p><p>    Stiles looks over at Derek and nudges the alpha until his gaze is being met with crimson eyes. “Derek,” he begins, grabbing a hold of the male’s hand and squeezing it tightly, “you gotta promise me something.”</p><p>    “What are you talking about? Why are you talking like that, Stiles?” Derek worried, panic rushing through his system like a bucket of ice water. “What’s going on?”</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “too far gone” by hidden citizens ]</b>
</p><p>    “Derek, listen to me—”</p><p>    The whip cracks and Stiles cries out in pain as it wraps around his arm, pulling him away from Derek’s grip. Everyone reacts at once; grabbing Stiles’ other arm and pulling forward. It’s a game of tug-a-war now and Kate laughs maniacally from the sideline.</p><p>    “Stiles! No!” Scott shouts as he reaches out to grab on to him. “No!”</p><p>    “Let go!” Stiles begs, tears flooding in his eyes. “You have to let go!”</p><p>    “And let you get captured?!” Lydia cries out and tightens her hold, nails digging into his forearm. “And let us <em> forget </em> you?”</p><p>    “No, we’re not doing that. Not again.” Isaac vehemently denies, shaking his head. “We’re not going to go through that pain again.”</p><p>    Stiles tilts his head to the side a little and the pleading look he has on his face shatters Derek’s face. “You have to,” he tries to reason. If you don’t, then something even worse will happen. Guys, <em> you have to. </em> You have to let me go.”</p><p>    “What else could be worse than losing a pack member?!” Peter bellows. “I absolutely can not go through that for a 3rd time!”</p><p>    “They’re going to erase <em> everyone</em>!” Stiles exploded in frustration. “And I’m not just talking about Beacon Hills. I’m talking <em> everyone </em>! They’re going to erase everyone. It’s going to be one big Thanos snap, don’t you get it?!”</p><p>    “Stiles,” Derek starts shakily, “I’d rather be<em> with </em> you if it meant the world ending. I’m not letting go.” Derek, who held the strongest hold in Stiles’ hand, only tightened his hold. “I’m <em> not </em> letting go.”</p><p>    Before Stiles could reply, another whip appears and he about screams as it wraps around his waist. He begins skidding backwards, being pulled towards the portal opening behind him.</p><p>    “Derek.” Stiles calls out.</p><p>    “Hold on!” Scott yells at all of them. “Grab on to each other and pull!”</p><p>    “Derek—”</p><p>    “We got you, Stiles!”</p><p>    “Derek!” Stiles shouts. “Derek, look at me. Look at me!” The alpha refuses to open his eyes for the longest of time, too afraid of what he, deep down, knew was going to happen. Too afraid to watch it happen in front of him and be helpless to stop it.</p><p>    “You need to promise me something.”</p><p>    “Stiles—”</p><p><em>     “Derek.” </em> Stiles cuts firmly and uses his last shred of strength to give a mighty pull. The momentum makes every surge forward and the balance wavered for a second but Stiles has Derek right where he wants him to be; right in front of him.</p><p>    “You’re going to forget me.”</p><p>    “No. No, I won’t. Stiles, <em> I won’t</em>.”</p><p>    “You will,” Stiles chuckles quietly. “You all will… I just want you to remember one thing.”</p><p>    “Stiles—”</p><p>    “Remember I love you.”</p><p>    Derek froze, eyes growing wide. Time slowed as he watched with one might pull, Stiles got flung back. With an arm stretched towards them in the last attempt to reach them, he’s pulled into the vortex and whisked away before their very eyes.</p><hr/><p>    As much as none of them wanted to forget, they tried their best not to, what was done has been done. Bit by bit, every trace of Stiles vanished. One moment they were in the field, facing Kate and the Witches as the Ghost Riders rode off into the tree line, and the next minute, they were back home confused on why they felt like someone tore into their chests and ripped their hearts out.</p><p>    Derek was the last one to remember Stiles. He felt the ache of his pack slowly forgetting one by one and by the time he himself forgot as well, the alpha had fallen asleep in Stiles’ room clutching one of his shirts to his chest.</p><hr/><p>    “Do you guys feel that?” Lydia speaks so softly, tenderly; as if worried speaking too loudly might break the air around them. They were all huddled around the kitchen table. Different papers and photos circling a large map of Beacon Hills. The map had several black 'x’s marks hastily scribbled on, a few circles laid out in red.</p><p>    “If you’re asking if I feel the immense need to bang my head against the nearest concrete wall,” Mason sighs as he tosses the stack of papers he was reading on to the table, “then yes. I definitely do feel it now, Mr. Krabs.”</p><p>    “No.” Lydia shakes her head slowly. “That’s not it.”</p><p>    Silence bestows the pack once more as they hone in on the unspoken, yet lingering, feeling that hasn’t left them for weeks. None of them spoke about it, too afraid that the other wouldn’t believe them or be perceived as crazy for having a feeling that they can’t explain.</p><p>    “Every time I say something, I feel like… I feel like someone’s supposed to say something back.” Derek is the first to speak. “I keep having this feeling where I’m expecting a remark from someone, and I feel myself preparing for it, but then… there’s nothing and I’m left feeling bitter and confused.”</p><p>    “Today was the last day of lacrosse training.” Scott joined in, distantly looking out of the window. “I was aiding Coach train the newbies on the team, like I always have been, but lately… I feel like something is missing. Like someone was supposed to be there with me.”</p><p>    Erica presses the tip of her shoe against the floorboards, hiding her frown by dipping her head low. “Last night, I had the weird urge to go to the comic store. So I went there, searching for something that I couldn't name, but when I found it, I found myself crying and I didn’t know why.” A pause. “It was a Batman comic book.”</p><p>    “A couple of days ago, I was walking through the hallway at school. Trying to reminisce in memories since graduation is only a month away.” Lydia chewed on her plump bottom lip for a moment as her hands trembled. “I found my locker but I was lingering there for a little longer than I realized. It felt like I was supposed to wait for someone but… no one came.”</p><p>    “I lost control on the full moon.” Malia admits, though everyone already knew about the fiasco. “I said I lost control because of the fight I had with Kira the night prior. But I lied.” Sitting beside her, Kira gives her a worried glance and encases one of her hands in both of hers. “I lost control because it seemed as if I couldn’t come up with an anchor. And it felt weird, like my anchor was something obvious and in plain sight.”</p><p>    Theo gently nudges Liam, who has been quiet the entire morning, and gives him an encouraging look. The beta shakes his head quickly, teeth digging into his bottom lip as he curls into himself. With a frown, Theo pulls his boyfriend close and kisses the top of his head.</p><p>    “Liam’s been experiencing something similar. For the past week or so, I’ve watched him sit down in front of the PS4 and pull out a second controller after putting Halo in. He held the controller out, like he expected someone to take it, but when nothing happened and he realized no one was there, he looked… disappointed.” Liam explained. “And the other day, I… I was just driving around town out of boredom. I saw something in the corner of my eye that had my heart-rate skyrocketing.”</p><p>    “I sensed it all the way from over here.” Liam comments as he lifts his head. “You never did tell me what happened.”</p><p>    Swallowing thickly, Theo gathers himself before continuing, “Blue. I saw something blue drive by me and then I found myself driving through the streets like some mad-man. I’m surprised I didn’t get pulled over. I did an illegal u-turn and everything and started chasing something that I couldn’t see. But this feeling… This feeling of desperation took over and it was like my body had a mind of its own. By the time, I was able to come back to my senses, I realized I was having a panic attack in some Jeep. I knew that I didn’t know whose Jeep was it, but for some reason there was a voice in the back of my head telling me that I was lying to myself.” Reaching into his pocket, the sound of keys jingling filled the somber air as he pulled the object out. “And for some reason… I couldn’t leave that Jeep until I took the keys with me.”</p><p>    Reaching out to take the keys from him, Lydia cradles them delicately between her palms and squeezes them tightly. “Something is missing…”</p><p>    “Some<em> one </em>.” Derek corrects as he stares over at the stairs, half-expecting someone to come tumbling down in a mess of limbs, speaking too fast to be able to make out a single word, and a heap of papers in their arms.</p><p>    “Someone is missing.”</p><hr/><p>    The Jeep turned out to be registered to Claudia Stilinski, the Sheriff’s wife. It had been sitting there for years, she was told, although it seemed strange that the vehicle was still in such great condition despite the <em> horrendous </em> amount of duct-tape under the hood. And due to the fact that no one has been claiming it, it was going to be sent to the junkyard for parts.</p><p>    “Hey!” Lydia shouts, doing her best to not trip over herself as she runs over to the male high heels. “Hey! You can’t tow this jeep.”</p><p>    “Paperwork says I can,” the man countered as he flipped through the papers on his clipboard, “It’s reported as abandoned.”</p><p>    Giving him a steady look, she reaches forward and places her hand on the vehicle. “And now it’s not.”</p><p>    “Oh, this is your vehicle?” His eyebrows raise and he has this incredulous look on his face.</p><p>    “Does it matter?” She frowns.</p><p>    The man laughs, turning to grab the door handle. “Take that as a no.”</p><p>    Scott comes barreling over, nearly slamming his body on to the hood. “It’s mine,” he quickly says. “Uh, my jeep. Thank you. I’ll move it. Once I get the keys.” A brief pause. “From my locker. <em> After </em> you leave.”</p><p>    “I’m sorry, once it’s on the hook—”</p><p>    “Please don’t say ‘you’re on the hook’.” Lydia bemoans.</p><p>    “Well, I can’t now.”</p><p>    Scott shifts forward, as persistent as ever. “Well, I—there’s gotta be something we can do. Sign something. Call someone.”</p><p>    “Pay someone.” Lydia deadpans.</p><p>    The man shows a cheeky grin. “Drop fee’s a hundred and fifty. <em> Cash</em>.”</p><p>    Scott looks like he’s about to cry while Lydia immediately searches through her bag for her wallet. “A hundred and fifty? This thing isn’t even worth that much.”</p><p>    “How much you got?” Lydia proposed, finally pulling out a decent wad of cash and counting through it.</p><p>    “How much have <em> you </em> got?”</p><p>    “Just give me your money.”</p><p>    With a sigh, Scott pulls out some cash from his pocket and states, “All I have is $50. And when I say ‘all’, I mean <em> all</em>—”</p><p>    With a small roll of her eyes, the banshee snatches his cash and hands the combined amount to the tow truck driver, who takes it with a grin before walking away.</p><p>    “Hey,” Scott gently grabs her arm, “You know I don’t have the keys to this thing, right?”</p><p>    Lydia gives a half-hearted shrug as she looks at the beat-up jeep in front of them. “But now we have a jeep.”</p><p>    With an unimpressed scowl, Scott looks over at the vehicle and studies the slight dents it had all over its hood. It could seriously need some good TLC and a nice new paint job as well.</p><p>    “Why did you even stop the guy?” He inquires, reaching out with his foot to give the tired a nudge. “This jeep is banged up pretty good. Looks like we’d be doing everyone a favor by impounding it.”</p><p>    Turning her head to look over at the alpha, she cocks a well groomed eyebrow at him. “Why did you come running over and vouch for me?”</p><p>    He shuts his mouth and frowns.</p><p>    “Wait,” Lydia gasps and grabs his sleeve, “Didn’t Theo say he found himself in a blue jeep the other day and couldn’t leave without the keys?”</p><p>    “Oh my god” Scott’s mouth hangs open in shock “Yeah, you’re right! He did! Then that means…”</p><p>    Lydia’s plump lips curl into a smile. “We finally got a lead.”</p><hr/><p>    “Look, Lydia, I know this worked the last time when we were trying to find Mason, but,” Malia didn’t look convinced at all as she stared at the banshee, “How do you know it’s going to work this time?”</p><p>    “Because.” Lydia answers simply while climbing into the chair and pulling herself close to the table.</p><p>    “Because is not an answer.” Peter reminds flatly.</p><p>    “What exactly are you going to do?” Derek interjects before Lydia could send his uncle a rude remark. “Are you just… going to try to get a sense of who the owner is?”</p><p>    Lydia takes a deep breath. “I hope so. Now everyone quiet, please. I need to concentrate.”</p><p>    Curling her hand around the pen in one hand and gripping the car-keys in the other, the banshee closes her eyes and takes nice, slow breaths. Everyone observed her in silence, standing with awaited breaths and something akin to hope glittering in their eyes. Lydia lets her mind go blank as she lets the texture of the keys flood her senses. Every curve of the metal, every dip engraved. From the ignition key to various other random keys to an ironic acrylic wolf key-chain. Letting the pad of her thumb drag across the smooth surface of the key-chain, something in her mind snaps into motion and she seems to detach from reality itself.</p><p>    Only when there are numerous shouts of her name does she snap out of it and blink up at them in confusion.</p><p>    “What?”</p><p>    Derek is staring down at the notebook in confusion as he leans forward to ask, “What the hell is a Stiles?”</p><p>    With a small frown, Lydia looks down at whatever she had written and gasps quietly. ‘Mischief’ was repeatedly written on the paper in a strategic way, so that the mass of the singular word shaped into a single letter until eventually spelling Stiles.</p><hr/><p>    “I don’t know what to tell you.” Claudia rasps out. “I haven’t seen that jeep in.. almost 18 years.”</p><p>    “But it’s in your name.” Lydia points out limply.</p><p>    “It was <em> stolen</em>.” Claudia insists.</p><p>    “Then how did it end up at the high school?” Derek counters.</p><p>    Both Claudia and Noah look flabbergasted and at a loss for words. “Beats the hell outta me,” Noah says, “That thing was a junker back in the day. God only knows who would want it now.”</p><p>    “Maybe somebody dumped it there?” Claudia offered with a furrow of her brow.</p><p>    Looking over at Lydia, who was barely keeping herself together, Derek exhales quietly. “Is there a way to trace the history of the jeep after it was stolen?”</p><p>Noah scowls. “No.”</p><p>    “But there’s fingerprints in it.” Lydia defended.</p><p>    “Lydia,” Noah sighs, “Is this about Stiles?”</p><p>    Derek took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Even though he felt as if he wasn’t familiar with the name, whenever he heard it, something churned in his gut.</p><p>    “Honey, don’t you think you’ve taken this far enough?” There’s an accusatory, exhausted tilt on Claudia’s tongue as she hands Derek the papers back. “I don’t really know what’s going with you later, or <em> you </em> either,” she gestures over towards Derek, “but maybe it’s a good time to talk to your mom.”</p><p>    Lydia was frozen in her chair, tears rolling down her cheeks. Derek could feel something tearing and clawing in his chest and his breathing was becoming jagged, uneven with the sudden rush of emotions. So with as much steadiness and calmness he could muster, he reaches out to take Lydia’s hand and guide her to her feet.</p><p>    “Do you mind if we just..?” He trails off, gesturing off towards the hallway. Claudia smiles but it’s tight, forced.</p><p>    “Sure thing. Take your time.”</p><p>    With that, Derek leads Lydia away from the couple and up the stairs. He doesn’t know why his instinct is to go up there but his feet are moving up the stairs two at a time. Even as he reaches the archway and marches down the hallway, he passes by something that has him halting with a cold chill running down his spine. Turning slowly, he looks at the wall to his right and sees that there was a small vanity there, right below some wallpaper that was torn back from the wall.</p><p>    “What?” Lydia gasps, trying to keep her sobs at bay. “Why did you bring us up here, Derek?”</p><p>    He doesn’t answer initially. Just slowly walks towards the wall and reaches out to run his fingers over the wallpaper. He curls his finger around the flap and yanks a piece off, ignoring Lydia’s startled gasp, her hands on his arm to try to stop him.</p><p>    “Can’t you feel it?” Derek snarls, feeling his fangs elongate against his lips. By now, he has bunches of the wallpaper in his fists. It only revealed the pasty white wall but if looked at closely, they could see that it was out of place, irregular and forced there unlike the rest of the wall. </p><p>    Lydia stops in her attempts to pull him away from the wall but her grip remains knuckle-white on his sleeve.</p><p>    “There was supposed to be something here. There was supposed to be a door here.”</p><hr/><p>    It was like they were back at square one. Cornered by another Big Bad and not knowing what to do. The only lead they had on this supposed Stiles vanished when Claudia banished Derek from ever returning to their house when she caught him trying tearing through the wall.</p><p>    Derek, who has been more broody and grumpy than usual, has refused to leave his room unless it meant for pack-meetings and emergencies.</p><p>    Derek, who feels more defeated than he’s ever felt in a long time, finds himself curling a hand around the same wolf key-chain that stood out to him ever since Theo brought the car keys back.</p><p>    It’s been a few days since the little incident at the Stilinski house but for some reason, he can’t find himself to come out of his room. There was something holding him there. Maybe it was the immense sense of being a complete and utter <em> failure </em>. Or maybe it was the fact that the wolf in him had curled into a dark corner some time ago and couldn’t be coaxed out.</p><p>    There was a piece in his life that was missing and even his wolf could sense it.</p><p>    He was too busy sulking to pay attention to his phone, set on silent, going off repeatedly with notifications. Missed calls from Scott and Lydia. Repeated text messages from Malia and Peter. He had unknowingly missed out on the heart-stopping news of Lydia figuring it out, of Lydia figuring it <em>all</em> out and putting all the pieces together. Only when his bedroom door was about thrown off its hinges and he was dragged out of the house by his own betas did Derek snap out of his own self-loathing enough to at least listen to what they had to say.</p><p>    “What are we doing here?” Derek groans as they pull up to the Stilinski house. “I’m sure you remember Claudia screaming her head off at us and <em> banning </em> <em> me</em> from ever setting foot on their property?”</p><p>    “Claudia is dead.” Scott deadpans as he yanks the alpha out of the car. “She’s been for a while.”</p><p>    “Okay, unless I’m sort of banshee like red head over there, there’s no way in hell we were communicating with a ghost for nearly 3 months.”</p><p>    “It’s true.” Noah confirms once he welcomes them into the house. “My wife has been… gone since 2004. Stiles was only 8 when she passed.”</p><p>    Letting out a loud groan, Derek yanks away from the hands pulling him towards the stairs. “<em>Again</em> with the whole Stiles thing! Lydia, I thought we talked about this! Stiles is a nobody! He was just a figment of your—”</p><p><em>     “Derek.” </em> Scott’s growl and flash of crimson eyes has the said male clamping his mouth shut immediately.</p><p>    “Derek, please” Erica begs beside him “Trust us. Please.”</p><p>    Breathing through his nose, the alpha exhales deeply before giving a small but sharp nod. He pulls away from their hands once more when they try leading him up the stairs again then starts making his way up on his own, everyone following shortly behind him. They watch from the end of the hallway as Derek slowly makes his way towards the same spot that gave him a chill down his spine. He noticed that someone has obviously been here previously, for there was a large gaping hole in the wall and the vanity that was propped against it had been tossed to the side. Now standing in front of the make-shift doorway, Derek can see that it leads into an empty room with nothing but pale blue walls and a soft beige carpet.</p><p>    “Go inside.” Scott coaxes gently with a firm hand on his shoulder. “And you’ll figure it out on your own.”</p><p>    Derek gives him a confused scowl before slowly making his way through the gap and into the room. Looking around, he sees nothing. Blank walls. No object or piece of furniture in sight. Nothing. There was <em> nothing </em>. </p><p>    “There’s nothing in here, Scott,” remarked Derek, frustration sharp on his tongue. “You lead me into an empty room <em> because </em>?”</p><p>    “Oh, it’s not empty.” Kira disputed as she looked around the room, eyes finding objects that Derek couldn’t see. “You can’t see them because you don’t believe.”</p><p>    “Don’t believe?” Derek asks incredulously. “The hell does that mean?”</p><p>    “Remember when we met for the first time?” Scott reminds from the doorway. “In the preserve all those years ago?”</p><p>    “Yeah, you were digging through the dirt saying you were trying to find something.”</p><p>    “Exactly.” Scott hums, pulling something out of his bag. “And then you tossed me this.”</p><p>    At first, Derek doesn’t see the object that Scott was tossing at him. But then a subtle flash of pale blue has him flinching and instinctively reaching out to catch the inhaler. Derek lets out a breath as he stares down at it in disbelief.</p><p>    “But… when we met, you didn’t have asthma.”</p><p>    “No, I got over that thanks to the bite.” Scott chuckles and stuffs his hands into his pockets. “But Stiles used it for his panic attacks.”</p><p>    “Stiles?”</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “meet me on the battlefield” by svrcina ]</b>
</p><p>    Without warning, there’s voices echoing in his head. He recognizes his own, then Scott, and another voice that’s familiar, that brings him a sense of warmth and suddenly, all he can smell is cinnamon.</p><p>
  <em>     “What are you doing here? This is private property.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Sorry, man, we didn’t know.” </em>
</p><p>    Derek’s eyes are full-blown and filled with tears by the time he slowly looks up. It’s suddenly too overwhelming. The rush of emotions, of scents, of <em> feelings </em> coming at him like the harsh tides of the ocean during a storm. It makes him step back and nearly jump out of his skin when he steps on something. Looking down and lifting his foot, he spots a set of keys. The same ones Theo had brought back. Seeing the wolf key-chain attached to the ring, Derek slowly bends down and picks it up.</p><p>
  <em>     “Not yet. I have a last resort.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “What do you mean? What last resort? Oh my god. What is that? Is that contagious? You know what, you should probably just get out.” </em>
</p><p><em>     “Start the car. </em> Now. <em> ” </em></p><p><em>     “I don't think you should be barking orders with the way you look, okay? In fact, I think if I wanted to, I could probably </em> drag your little werewolf ass <em> out into the middle of the road and leave you for dead.” </em></p><p>
  <em>     “Start the car. Or I’m going to rip your throat out. With my teeth.” </em>
</p><p>    The distant sound of the car's engine coming to life snaps Derek back and suddenly, he’s hearing the voices all around him.</p><p>
  <em>     “You faint at the sight of blood?” </em>
</p><p><em>     “No but I might at the sight of a </em> chopped off arm <em> !” </em></p><p>    Derek is turning around in the middle of the room, watching as slowly, one by one, things to begin to fade into view. An Avengers poster hanging on the wall in front of him. The large animated sticker of someone on a snowboard on the opposite wall.</p><p>
  <em>     “Don’t be such a sourwolf.” </em>
</p><p>    Instead of the gaping hole large enough for them to step through, there was a door there now. Dark brown, probably mahogany or some cheap wood painted to <em> look like </em> mahogany.</p><p>
  <em>     The sound of someone getting slammed harshly against the door, causing it to rattle noisily. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “If you say one more word—” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Oh, what, you mean like ‘Hey, dad, Derek Hale’s in my room, bring your gun’? Yeah, that’s right. If I’m harboring your fugitive ass, it’s my house, my rules, buddy.” </em>
</p><p>    Backing up some more, he finds himself knocking into something large and hefty. He whips around and finds a large dresser with the top one open. A faded blue and orange shirt was hanging out of the ajar drawer.</p><p>
  <em>     “Who’s he again?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Um, my cousin. Miguel.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Is that blood on his shirt?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Yeah. Yes. Well, he gets these horrible nosebleeds. Hey, Miguel. I thought I told you you could borrow one of my shirts. So anyway, I mean, we both know you have the skills to trace that text, so we should probably—” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Uh, Stiles?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Yes?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “This—no fit.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Then try something else on.” </em>
</p><p>    Tucking the shirt back into the drawer as neatly as he could, he pushes it closed and takes a deep breath, clenching his eyes shut and trying to calm himself down. He’s well aware that his senses are going haywire and his heart is hammering against his ribs, well on his way to a panic attack if he doesn’t keep his breathing in control. Instead, he clears his head and lets the voices, lets the feelings and the memories come back, letting himself drown in them.</p><p>
  <em>     “How’d you do that..?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “I’m the alpha.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Get him off me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Oh, I don’t know, Derek. I think you two make a pretty good pair.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “If I go in first, how much space do I have?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “What do you—What do you think you’re gonna do, Derek? You gonna punch through the wall?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Derek makes a tight-lipped smile and he looks about done with his antics as he folds his arms across his chest. “Yes, Stiles. I’m gonna punch through the wall.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Okay, okay, big guy. Let’s see it. Let’s see that fist. Big, old fist. Make it, come on. Get it out there. Don't be scared. Big bad wolf. Yeah, look at that. Okay, see this?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Derek, looking even more done than ever, reluctantly held an arm out with a hand curled into a tight fist. The boy in front of him holds his hand out in front of the fist. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “That’s maybe 3 inches of room to gather enough force to punch through solid co—” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     A solid punch and with a loud yelp, the boy clatters against the table, cradling his poor hand before staggering away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “He could do it.” </em>
</p><p>    <em>He could feel the ghost of a hand hesitantly reaching for his shoulder and offering a calming, reassuring squeeze. The hand, steady and calm, in comparison to how shaky and emotional Derek was as he knelt in front of the body of his younger sister, Cora, who was killed during the fight with Deucalion.</em></p><p>    “You’re remembering.” Noah smiles, relief flooding his system.</p><p>    “Try to hold on to a memory, Derek.” Scott rushes over to his side. “Try to remember something he said or he did! Something that left an impression!”</p><p>    “Scott, I can’t—”</p><p>    “Derek, remember Cora died?” Boyd suddenly pipes up. Derek turns his head to glare at the beta over his shoulder. “We held a funeral for her and buried her in the backyard of the old Hale house.”</p><p>    “Boyd, I don’t think that’s a wise reminder.” Peter advises.</p><p>    “You lost your anchor that night.” Erica pushes on, ignoring his warning.</p><p>    Derek growls quietly and closes his eyes as the echo of voices return. Despite the memory forever bringing a harsh sting, he digs deep and clings on to the memory as it slowly surfaces.</p><hr/><p>
  <em>     It was a beautiful fall night. If it wasn’t under these kinds of circumstances, Derek was sure he’d be out enjoying the full moon like originally planned. He’d be out running with his pack. He’d be out there howling at the moon and feeling the wet leaves beneath his paws. But he can’t. Not when he’s like this; snarling at anything that comes into his view, anything with a heartbeat, and chained to a concrete slab in the basement. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “What’s going on with him?” Mason asks quietly, watching the alpha bark and yank on the chains in an attempt to break free. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “He must’ve lost his anchor when Cora died.” Lydia sighs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Wait, that doesn’t make sense.” Corey intervenes in confusion. “Didn’t you say his anchor was anger?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Maybe it once was.” Allison says. “But not anymore. I think his anger died with his sister and instead, now he doesn’t have anything to focus his control on.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     There was a boy standing there beside them, unusually quiet as they continued their conversation. His ember eyes remained locked on the feral alpha that lunged at them with his might and even from a distance, he could feel the werewolf’s sorrow. Letting out a soft sigh, the boy yanks off his plaid shirt and tosses it to Mason with a mutter of ‘don’t let it get dirty’ before slowly making his way down the basement stairs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Wait!” Allison exclaims. “What are you doing?” </em>
</p><p><em>     “Something very dangerous,” answers the boy, who then quickly ducks as a small chunk of concrete was hurled at him, “Something </em> very <em> , very stupid.” </em></p><p>
  <em>     “I don’t think you should—” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Turning to face his friends, the boy extends an arm to them in a ‘halt’ motion. “Whatever happens, do not come down here. Understand?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “I don’t understand—” </em>
</p><p><em>     “ </em> Do not <em> come down here no matter what.” The boy persists, ember eyes normally wide and filled to the brim with life now hard and serious. “I mean it, guys. </em> Do not <em> come down and </em> do not <em> call for Scott.” </em></p><p>
  <em>     His friends stay silent, heart thrumming wildly in their chests as they watch the boy slowly approach the alpha in terror. They couldn’t tell if the boy was stupid or just… well, stupid, but if they knew one thing, it was to trust him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Derek. Hey, buddy. Do you recognize me?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     An angry snarl and more yanking on chain. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     The boy sighs, “Take that as a no. Okay, uhm—do you recognize any of us?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     More snarling. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “I don’t think it’s working!” Mason calls out shakily as he moves further up the stairs. “Get out of there!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “No!” The boy shouts, whipping his head around to face them with a cold stare. “I’m not going to give up on him, alright?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     The sudden noise of metal breaking, snapping like mere twigs, and the cracking of concrete breaking under sheer force has all of them jumping in their skin. The boy barely has a second to react before he’s being slammed to the ground. He hears his friends shouting desperately, racing towards him as he cries out in agony when claws dig into his side, tearing through his shirt and piercing flesh. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Stay back!” He grits out, releasing a pulse of energy that pushes his friends back. “Just stay back!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     The alpha howls and continues clawing and digging at his torso. The boy grits his teeth and bites back his screams. Crimson was staining his shirt and forming a pool around him as he reached up to grab the alpha’s wrists. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Derek!” It’s not the shout that gets the alpha to cease all movement. It’s the sudden change in the boy’s eyes and the authoritative growl on his tongue. The once ember eyes were now glinting and sparkling with unshed tears but… something else—something the alpha has never seen before until now. The shade of brown is fading away and instead there’s swirls of pale lavender and dark blue. Little flashes of light remind him of sparklers weaving through the air. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “That’s right. That’s right, Derek, look at me. Do you remember who I am?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Silence. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Okay, well maybe you’ll remember this.” The boy lets go of his wrists and shoots a hand up to press the pad of his thumb against Derek’s pulse. And it’s like all of his senses burning wildly, painfully. It makes him cry out in agony and squirm around, bloodied claws once again returning to the boy’s fragile flesh when the scent of smoke catches his nose. The sound of distant screaming. The heat of a large flame engulfing the once beautiful building he, and many others, called home. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Focus on the memory!” Stiles cries out. “I know it’s painful but you need to focus on it!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Derek remembers. He remembers vividly. Running through the preserve with the smell of smoke filling his nose and screams, howls, filling his ears. By the time he had arrived at the scene, the house was no more. There were several cops and ambulances, paramedics hauling a gurney with a body bag on it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Good! Now focus on me! Focus on me, big guy. Focus on me.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     The sharp scent of cinnamon fills his nostrils, sharp and grounding. It’s followed by mountain ash, smooth and soothing. Then firewood, crisp and strong. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Then, all of a sudden, it’s reeling him in. His wolf follows it, chases it through the void and runs faster the closer it gets. There’s a bright light appearing, soft and barely there at first, but soon glowing and rapidly growing the closer the wolf got. And soon, the wolf leapt into the light and Derek pulls back with a loud gasp. He can still smell the cinnamon mixing with firewood and mountain ash but he can smell something heavy and metallic.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Blood.  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Panic. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Desperation. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Fear. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Derek?” A soft voice shakily calls out to him. “Please tell me that’s actually you, big guy…” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Looking beyond his bloody hands and his bloody clothes, Derek sobs at the sight of the boy beneath him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Oh my god. Oh my god.” Derek is panicking as he shoots his hands forward to cup the boy’s face in his hands. “I’m so sorry, I—” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Don’t be.” The boy chuckles weakly and winces when he tries to move. There were many gashes and claw marks all over his torso and chest, blood smearing over his throat and over his cheeks due to Derek’s panicked palms hovering over him, not knowing what to do. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “You weren’t in control.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “I-I must’ve lost my anchor.” Derek realizes in time for his heart to break. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry—what do I do? Tell me what to do!” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Well,” taking a careful breath, the boy tries to shift his body weight on to his elbow by propping himself up, “although I enjoy being underneath you, I honestly hoped it would’ve happened a whole lot better. So… hospital. Yeah, a hospital would be nice.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     With Mason driving, Allison hysterical on the phone with Scott, and Lydia remaining back at the house to attempt to clean up the mess, Derek is in the backseat cradling the boy protectively in his arms and leeching his pain away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Do you think I’ll turn?” he asks quietly, barely conscious. He was bleeding profusely. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “No,” Derek answers and tries to keep his voice steady. “No, my claws didn’t go deep enough.” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “Ah, well… bummer.” The boy lets his head loll against the alpha’s shoulder, letting his eyes flutter shut as the darkness begins to pull him in. “At least you were able to find an anchor, yeah?” </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     Derek nodded quietly and watches the boy slip away, holding him tighter to his chest, careful to not jostle the make-shift bandages on his injuries. Pressing his lips to the boy’s forehead, the alpha squeezes his eyes shut and does his best to will the tears away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>     “I found my anchor,” he murmurs into his hair. “It’s you, Stiles. You’re my anchor.” </em>
</p><hr/><p>    When Derek opens his eyes, coming back to reality after submerging himself into the distant memory, he’s on Stiles’ old twin bed with his lacrosse jersey clutched in his hands. His head is low and although he tries to fight back the tears, tries to hide them so that no one can see them, they slip down his cheeks anyways and cling to his jawline before finally letting go, landing on the number 24 that was printed on the back.</p><p>    “He became my anchor that night.” Derek reveals quietly. Several sighs of relief echo throughout the room as Scott walks forward to sit down carefully beside him.</p><p>    “I’d like to believe that he always was your anchor.” He concurred. “And maybe you didn’t just didn't know it until that night.”</p><p>    “Is it possible for us to have the same anchor?” Malia wonders out-loud. “I mean, Stiles was my anchor because he was pretty much the first person to treat me with respect and protected me when we got trapped in Eichen.”</p><p>    Peter purses his lips and cocks his head to the side. “Stiles is your anchor because he was the first person to show what it meant to be human. Stiles is Derek’s anchor because…”</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “i’ll be good” by jaymes young ]</b>
</p><p>    “Because he loved him.” Isaac finishes.</p><p>    Derek is silent for a moment before he starts moving, getting up to his feet and wiping his tears away with the back of his hand. “Loves,” he corrected sharply.</p><p>    “I-I’m sorry, what?”</p><p>    “Loved is past-tense, Isaac.”</p><p>    Isaac’s eyes grew wide. “Oh. Does that mean you’re—”</p><p>    “So what are we going to do?” Derek interjects before Isaac could continue. “We all remember him. Now what? How did you guys get Lydia back?”</p><p>    “Well, it happened a whole lot differently, honestly.” Lydia snorts. “I somehow communicated to everyone through my cellphone and I—” Cutting herself off, she pauses in her steps with a scrunched up expression for only a second or two before she’s grinning. “That’s it! That’s it! Guys, let’s go!”</p><p>    She’s bolting out of the house before anyone can even ask what she came up with, leaving them in a cloud of confusion before they all scramble after her. Everyone piles into their separate cars and peel off down the road after Lydia’s blue Toyota, following her throughout Beacon Hills until they finally reach Scott’s house. Scott beats everyone to the garage as he digs into his pocket for his keys. After trying several times to try to find the right key, Scott growls and yanks the doorknob off, tossing it somewhere over his shoulder then shoving the door open. The jeep was still there.</p><p>    “Keys. Keys!” Derek demanded, opening the driver seat. Theo reaches into his pocket and tosses him the key ring. After situating himself in the driver’s seat with Lydia in the passenger seat and Scott at his side, Derek takes a deep breath and turns the key into the ignition. The engine stalls for a second before rumbling to life. Lydia immediately begins toying with the radio, scanning through each channel of static carefully.</p><p>    “Is this going to work?” Noah asks in a rush. “Is this going to bring back my son?”</p><p>    “It’s going to break the barrier, definitely.” Corey affirms. “Once the barrier is broken, however, it’ll be up to Stiles to find a way out. Last time, I was there to help Lydia out. But right now, I don’t think I’d be able to do anything.”</p><p>    Mason lets out a noise and grabs his hand, tugging him over towards Lydia. “Join hands,” he instructs, only to get weird looks from both of them. “Lydia was able to break the barrier like last time. What if you, the person who <em>actually</em> has the ability to cross back and forth between worlds, can join your energy with hers and create a portal?”</p><p>    “It's worth a shot.” Derek agreed, nodding his head at Mason. “Let’s do it.”</p><p>    Lydia sighs and takes Corey’s hand while she continues to shift through the channels. There’s only static and white noise. However Lydia could hear whispers in the noise, whispers that would only get louder the closer she got.</p><p>    “This is it.” Lydia suddenly announces and grabs the walkie out of its holster. “This will be the one time where I’ll admit that I’m glad this buffoon installed a police radio in his jeep—Stiles? Stiles, can you hear me? Stiles? Can anyone hear me?”</p><p>    Her thumb releases the button and only status answers.</p><p>    “Hello? Is anyone there?”</p><p>    “Let Derek try.” Scott suggests, reaching into the car to take the walkie away and place it into Derek’s palms.</p><p>    “What?” Derek exclaims, holding the walkie pathetically in his hand. “Why me?”</p><p>    “Well, you were the last one who actually had contact with him. Even though we were all there, he was only talking to you.” Scott recalls and pats his shoulder. “Not to mention you were the last one to forget him.”</p><p>    “Just try!” Allison begs, hands lifting to place her palms together. “Please, Derek.”</p><p>    With a deep sigh, Derek holds the walkie up close and slowly presses his thumb down on to the button. “Stiles? It’s, uh… It’s me. It’s Derek. Can you hear me?”</p><p>    Silence.</p><p>    “Stiles, are you there?”</p><p>    More silence.</p><p>    “This isn't working.” Derek sags as he goes to put the walkie back into its holster. “We need to figure something else out.”</p><p>    “Derek, just keep trying.” Scott persisted. “C’mon, this is pretty much our only shot.”</p><p>    “Shh!” Malia suddenly sibilated, holding a finger to her lips. “Do you hear that?”</p><p>    All they hear is the wind gently blowing outside, the birds chirping, and the crackling static coming from the radio. Derek opens his mouth to say something when he does hear it. A voice. Cracking through the static, calling out, desperate to be heard. Derek shares a wide-eyed look with Scott before he’s scrambling to grab the walkie once more.</p><p>    “Stiles?! Stiles, is that you?!”</p><p>    A pause before, <em> “Derek?” </em></p><p>    “Yeah… Yeah, it’s me.”</p><p>
  <em>     “Derek? It’s really you. Oh my god, it’s really you… Y-You remember me? Do you actually remember me?” </em>
</p><p>    “We all do!” chorused Scott, leaning close so that he could be heard. “We’re all right here, buddy. We all remember.”</p><p><em>     “Oh thank god,” </em> Stiles was definitely crying by the way his voice wavered, <em> “Thank god.” </em></p><p>    “Listen to me, Stiles,” Lydia joins in and reaches out for Derek’s hand. “We’re going to get you out of there. Now that we know Derek is a direct-line to you, I’m going to use both him and Corey to create a portal. I don’t know where you’re going to end up but, for the love of god, when you see that portal, you better run scrawny butt towards it.”</p><p>    A laugh. <em> “Yes, ma’am. Oh, shit, I know you can’t see me but I totally just saluted the air like a moron.” </em></p><p>    Scott grins. “See you on the flip-side, bud.”</p><p><em>     “Wait, wait!” </em> Stiles suddenly exclaims wildly. <em> “Before you do that, what happens if the Ghost Riders find out there was a breach? What about Kate and the Witches? What if, by bringing me back, it’ll cause a war.” </em></p><p>    “Shit, that’s right.” Ethan groans. “We nearly got our asses handed to us.”</p><p>    “We weren’t prepared. But we will be this time.” Derek reassures. “Besides, I think I already have an idea of what we could do. But it’ll only work if you come back. It’ll only work with <em> you </em> here. You hear me, Stiles? You <em> have </em> to come back.”</p><p>
  <em>     “I will, Derek… I will.” </em>
</p><p>    “Alright,” Lydia exhales as she grips Derek’s hand. “Let’s bring him back.”</p><p>    Even after they opened the portal and felt his presence, they knew that he was close and only just out of arms reach, nothing happened. The portal in front of them closed abruptly. They waited, listened, for anything. Maybe it was the hope of hearing the man running towards them or his shouts off in the distance, or maybe they were waiting to hear the sounds of horses and their hooves pounding against concrete.</p><p>    It was silent for the longest time before, suddenly—</p><p>    “Is that…” Peter pauses. “...Howling?”</p><p>    Derek feels his blood run cold as he looks over at Scott. “Alphas.”</p><p>    “I thought we made peace with Deucalion!” Malia squawks.</p><p>    “We did.” Scott grits as he moves away from the jeep. “But we <em> definitely </em> didn’t make peace with Kali or Ennis. And as far as I know, they’re not in Deucalion’s new pack either.”</p><p>    “So now we have two insane alphas hunting us. Is there anything else I should be informed of?” Noah fumed as he dashes towards his car, pulling a shotgun out of the backseat. At the sound of wicked, maniacal laughter, Derek shot out of the jeep and made a beeline towards his camaro.</p><p>    “The Witches that helped take Stiles from us are back.”</p><p>    Jackson whistles and follows suit, cracking his knuckles loudly. “It’s payback time.”</p><hr/><p>    For when a portal closed, another opened for only a second and out he went, tumbling into the forest ground face-first. Scrambling up to his knees, he spits out various shreds of leaves and grass, panic flooding through his system and hands patting at his entire body as if to make sure all of his limbs were still intact. He only stops fretting over himself when he hears a distant, faint howl. The howl he hears isn’t familiar, isn’t from his pack. It sounds angry, relentless, and merciless. Like a beast charging forward with the intent to spill as much blood as it could.</p><p>    Stiles picks himself up off the ground and sprints in the direction of the howl. It’s such a distance, and he doesn’t think he’ll arrive in time. He can sense something is happening and the drive to find his pack, to find his alpha, is almost maddening.</p><p>    The clearing comes into view and he bursts through only to have a mild heart-attack as he runs out in the middle of a street, resulting in the pick-up truck swerving around him while honking repeatedly. Looking up and down the street, trying to see if he could spot another driver and hopefully catch a ride into town with them, he eventually sees a red SUV driving towards him. The SUV slows to a stop beside him when Stiles motions at the driver.</p><p>    “Hey, sorry to bother you but I’m in a major…” The word caught in his throat as the driver rolled down the window and a familiar face grinned over at him. “...rush—holy shit, hi.”</p><p>    “Stiles.” Chris greets warmly. “What are you doing all the way out here?”</p><p>    “Long story—are you heading into town?”</p><p>    “I am. Got a call from your father a couple hours ago.” Chris informed, gesturing to the free passenger seat in a silent invitation. “He didn’t state why, just said I’ll know once I got here.”</p><p>    Stiles is already climbing into the vehicle and pulling his seat belt on. “Needless to say, shit went down. I don’t know how long I’ve been gone, honestly, time is completely warped when I’m being shoved into some weird dimensional reality.”</p><p>    Chris turns his head and gives him a perplexed look as he puts the car out of park. “Dimensional reality?”</p><p>    “Ghost Riders.” Stiles supplied. The older male inhales slowly and closes his eyes. “Yeah, they’re back. Or were, I’m not sure if they’re still around or not. Oh! By the way, your lovely sister is back in town again. She used a coven of witches and a handful of Ghost Riders to capture me. Much like how Lydia was captured a while back, I was as well.”</p><p>    “I’m gone for a year. A<em> year</em>.” Chris scowls. “And I come back to this mess.”</p><p>    Stiles laughs and looks out of the window. “Trust me, I know the feeling.”</p><p>    “Anything else I should be notified of?”</p><p>    Before he could reply, there was another howl. This time, familiar. Stiles feels his eyes flash and fingers curl into the rough denim on his knees.</p><p>    “I can think of one thing.” He grumbled. “You drive slower than my grandma after church.”</p><p>    Getting the hint to drive even faster, Chris goes well over the speed-limit as they finally enter town. It nearly causes them to crash into vehicles as he speeds through red light after red light and even through on-coming traffic when he was caught behind another car.</p><p>    “What are you going to do?” asks Stiles, voice cautious. He doesn’t specify anything else, but he doesn’t need to. He knows he doesn’t need to, not with the way Chris grips the steering wheel.</p><p>    “I hesitated back in Mexico.” Chris seethed. “She nearly got under my skin and I just let her go. I let her go. Knowing how much of a threat she was, knowing that she’ll just keep coming back until she gets what she wants. But even knowing that, I just… I couldn’t pull the trigger.”</p><p>    “I understand why you couldn’t. Gerard. Your wife.” Stiles intoned gently. “Aside from Allison, Kate is the only family you got left.”</p><p>    “I don’t think I’d be able to do it.” Chris admits with a heavy heart. “Deep down, I know I should’ve done it a long time ago, though.”</p><p>    “She’s too dangerous to continuously be set free, Chris.” Stiles turns his head to look over at him. “Doesn’t matter if it’ll be by you, me, Derek, or someone we don’t know—<em>someone</em> will put her down. Regardless of her being your family, it won’t matter to them. To anyone. While they will see her as a killer that deserves justice, you’ll see your misguided sister.”</p><p>    Chris chuckles bitterly. “Misguided is an understatement.”</p><p>    “What I’m <em> trying </em> to say is,” Stiles continues, “you better make a decision now or someone else will. Because after today, I think we both know someone will do something.”</p><p>    Chris fell silent the rest of the short ride through town. They continued to follow the sounds of howls until they finally reached the destination Stiles’ instinct led them to. The Preserve.</p><p>    “Classic.” Stiles scoffed. He doesn’t bother closing the door behind him as he races into the woods. </p><p>    There’s laughter, and not the kind he’ll hear on pack night’s when Erica laughing at one of his stupid puns. There’s grunts, and not the kind he’ll hear when Jackson is training with Aiden and Ethan under the moonlight, tussling through the grass and leaves. There’s a sharp stench lingering in the air. It grows stronger with every step he takes. He can smell blood—and a lot of it—along with swirls of different emotions. He’s not a werewolf by any means so he can’t put a name on each emotion he senses, but he can tell with the way his skin crawls that they’re not the happy go lucky feelings.</p><p>    He can tell there are others there. Others that Stiles hasn’t met.</p><p>    “Hold on, guys.” Stiles murmurs under his breath, hoping he’s close enough to them that one of them could catch wind of his words. “I’m coming.”  </p><hr/><p>    “Okay, there is a lot more than planned!” Peter shouts as he leaps over a fallen tree, trying to dodge a fireball being hurled at him by a witch chasing after him.</p><p>    “We’ve handled worse,” Kira chuckles unsteadily from behind him.</p><p>    “What could possibly be worse than this?!” Mason squawks, ducking as a whip made of fire nearly wraps around his throat.</p><p>    “Remember when Scott turned into a berserker? Fun times.” Malia monotones sarcastically.</p><p>    Liam snorts, “Oh, yeah, it was great. Totally didn’t have nightmares for two weeks straight.”</p><p>    “You’re one to talk.” Scott retorts. “You’re not the one that got turned into the thing!”</p><p>    “Since we’re on that topic,” Theo adds further, “Do you guys see a recurring issue that <em> never </em> seems to go away?”</p><p>    “Beacon Hills being a literal beacon to the supernatural?” guesses Erica.</p><p>    “No. Well, yes, but also no.” Peter says flatly. “It’s the fact that Kate doesn’t seem to grasp the fact that she’s constantly on the <em> losing </em> side.”</p><p>    Suddenly, a loud shotgun going off causes everyone to duck down in alarm. Derek, who had swooped and practically threw his body protectively over Isaac’s purely on instinct, peers behind them to see what had happened. Chris Argent stood there, shotgun still aimed high and smoke billowing softly out of its barrel. Noah and Parrish were right behind him.</p><p>    “Our back-up just arrived.” Noah smirked as he cocked his own shotgun.</p><p>    Looking over at the witch that nearly dug her talons into his jugular not a second ago, now definitely dead on the ground beside him, Scott mumbles a meek ‘thanks’ before accepting the offering hand of the veteran hunter.</p><p>    “Dad!” Allison cheers as she jogs over. “I thought you were out of state?”</p><p>    “I was, darling, but I had a feeling something was about to go down.” Letting out a sigh, Chris looks around the torn apart forest. “Glad my instinct is still kickin’ after all this time.”</p><p>    “Well, could be worse.” Mason really did try to sound more optimistic than he appeared. As if on cue, an explosion erupted and his cheer-y expression fell. “The world just <em> loves </em> proving me wrong, doesn’t it.”</p><p>    “What the hell was that?” Noah exclaims in alarm.</p><p>    Chris grins as he loads another round into the shotgun. “Oh, I picked up a hitchhiker on the way here. I figured it’d be a wise decision to bring ‘em here.”</p><p>    “Who is—<em> shit!</em>” Liam shrieks as he covers his head, barely dodging a fire blast aimed at his face. “Will you stop doing that?!”</p><p>    Sapphire cackles wickedly and summons more fire in her palm. “I don’t think so, pretty boy.”</p><p>    Theo scowls. “Hey. That <em> my </em> pretty boy we’re talking about. Watch it.”</p><p>    “Derek.” Kali sings sinisterly. “I was wondering where you ran off to. You still owe me that fight you promised me.”</p><p>    “Gladly.” Derek snarls with elongated fangs and claws.</p><p>    “Watch out!” A sudden cry has Derek whirling around. He sees the flash of a claw uncomfortably close to his eye before his attacker is suddenly being attacked.</p><p>    The timing Stiles has to randomly appear out of seemingly nowhere, hauling a baseball bat in his hands, and swinging at Ennis’ head—it’s quite astonishing, really.</p><p>    Rolling his shoulders, Stiles scowls down at the unconscious male at his feet before looking up at his stunned pack members. “Never said I needed magic to kick ass.” He scoffs and tosses the bat aside. When no one moves or says anything, Stiles pauses briefly and looks between his pack and the man on the ground. “Shit—bad guy, right? I didn’t misread that?”</p><p><em>     “You.” </em> Sapphire seethes dangerously and the fire in her palms grows tenfold. “How did you get out?”</p><p>    “By asking politely, of course!” Stiles jested. “A simple ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ can really get you far in life.”</p><p>    “Glad to see you still have a knack for talking our enemy into a murderous rampage,” Lydia says.</p><p>    “I know. It’s one of my specialties.”</p><p>    “Enough!” Sapphire’s voice booms through the field in a burst of energy that sends everyone flying back. Stiles doesn’t get a chance to catch himself in time and he ends up slamming, hard, into an oak tree. He’s dizzy and disoriented, trying to stand up but everything is spinning and he feels like throwing up.</p><p>
  <em>     Hello concussion. </em>
</p><p>    Looking up, he can see Derek swiping at Kali, who easily dodges left and right. Sapphire is throwing fireball after fireball at everyone else, making them scatter into different directions. Her other witches shrill loudly before separating to give chase. Stiles feels his anger rise when Sapphire turns to face him, wicked grin on her lips and triumphant glint in her blue eyes. There’s a whip forming in her hands that seems oddly familiar.</p><p>    “See this? I got it from the Ghost Riders after I killed them.” She boasts, running a hand over the whip in admiration. “Of course I added my own little tweaks to it. Would you like to see?”</p><p>    Then the whip is on him in a split second and a scream is ripped from this throat. It’s on his skin, wrapped around his inked arm, and it <em> burns </em>. Sapphire laughs wildly and pulls, yanking Stiles closer and dragging him across the ground. He hears a shout of his name but he can’t focus on it. The pain is excruciating.</p><p>    “Do you feel that?” Sapphire whispers into his ear. “It’s something called a sodium bicarbonate. It’s the same chemical used in fire extinguishers. I experimented a bit so the burning feeling you got going on is the serum working its way into your bloodstream. Think of it this way, it’s like pouring holy water on a demon. I’m using <em> this </em> to extinguish your spark.”</p><p>    The whip tightens and it burns and burns and <em> burns </em> . Stiles is screaming his throat raw. His strength is fading quickly and it's like the fire in his chest, the Spark keeping his veins warm, is being smothered. He suddenly feels cold.</p><p>    He’s flying through the air before he can comprehend it and slamming into another tree. Everything is swimming and he can’t focus on something without it having doppelgangers. The pain is still burning up his arm and looking down, he can see the ink in his skin marred and distorted. The whip didn’t physically hurt his arm but it broke many of the protection spells Deaton put on him.</p><p>    “Stiles!” Derek rushes over to him and kneels down beside him. “Are you alright?”</p><p>    “Her whip broke the seals Deaton created.” Stiles panted heavily.</p><p>    Frowning in confusion, he observes Stiles’ arm for a second. “What does that mean exactly?”</p><p>    “It means,” he pauses to take a deep breathe before looking up at Derek, “All the protection spells I placed on you guys, all the tracking runes I created so that I can find you and you could find me—it’s all useless. That bracelet I made you? Useless. It’s leaving everyone more unprotected and vulnerable to their spells and incantations. Not only that, but it’s in my system. It smothered my Spark, Derek. I’m… right now, I’m rendered a mere human at your disposal.”</p><p>    Derek gaps at him for a moment. “T-That’s impossible—she took your Spark away?!”</p><p>    Stiles shakes his head. “No. She took <em>my match</em> away. I can’t ignite it now.”</p><p>    “What do we do? What can <em> I </em> do?” Derek rushes out in panic. “We can't get rid of them like this, Stiles. There must be something we can do to ignite it.”</p><p>    Gritting his teeth, Stiles has an idea that definitely did not sound fun. His eyes scanned the field and watched as their pack hid from the fire blasts. Scott and Peter were barely holding their ground against Kali and Ennis. His father, Chris, and Parrish were doing their best to take on Sapphire, distracting her from Stiles to give them an opening.</p><p>    “Oh, fuck, this is gonna suck. Mainly for me. You? Not so much.” Stiles sighs and sits up against the trunk, extending his arm out towards the alpha.</p><p>    Derek blinked at him. “Am I supposed to leech the pain or something?”</p><p>    “Nope.” Stiles looked around the forest ground, trying to find a nice thick piece of wood to bite down on. “Remember when you had to break Erica’s arm and squeeze the kanima venom out of her that one time?”</p><p>    “Yeah?” Derek drawls in confusion, not catching on at first. Stiles raises his eyebrows and watches the alpha’s expression change in a split second. “No. Stiles, <em> no </em>. I’m not doing that to you. You can’t heal like me.”</p><p>    “Derek,” Stiles hissed. “There is no time for debate. You have to do it. It’s the only way.”</p><p>    “No!” The alpha shouts. “No, I already made you bleed once before! Not again, Stiles! I’m not going to do that again!”</p><p>    Stiles softens at the memory. They were still very new to each other when it had happened and Stiles was still dancing around him back then, trying to earn his trust. It was an accident, truthfully, but Derek still hasn’t forgiven himself for it.</p><p>    “Derek,” he calls out softly and reaches up to cup his cheek in his palm, “You have to. I know you don’t want to. But you have to. If you don’t, I won’t be able to protect them. Derek, please.”</p><p>    “Why does it have to be me?” Derek asks stiffly. “Why me?”</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “lover. fighter” by svrcina ]</b>
</p><p>    Stiles pauses before answering quietly, “Because I’m your Emissary. And you’re my Alpha.” Derek raises his head to look him in the eye. “If someone like Scott does it instead, he runs the risk of killing me. It has to be you, Derek. Only you.”</p><p>    Studying Stiles’ expression for a few seconds, Derek caves and presses his knees into the dirt. He reaches into his pocket and grabs a small chunk of metal. There were duvets and dents in it. Teeth marks.</p><p>    “I started carrying this mainly for Isaac,” Derek explains, “If he feels his control slipping, he’ll bite down on this and the metallic taste will help ground him.” He holds it out in front of Stiles, who slowly opens his mouth to accept it. Carefully placing it between his lips and waiting until teeth have been clamped down on to the metal, Derek pulls his hand away and grabs a hold of Stiles’ arm.</p><p>    “Take a deep breath” is all Derek advises for him to do before he twists his hands sharply. The loud snap of bone breaking is sickening but it’s Stiles’ muffled cry of agony that squeezes at Derek’s heart. Derek waits for the pain to dull down enough, lets Stiles take a few jagged breathes before he <em> squeezes </em>. Stiles sobs and screams, biting down hard on the metal, doing his best to sit still and not move. Derek watches the blood pour out of the wound, all over his hands and coating the ground below them. He could feel the serum making a dull stinging sensation against his palms and squeezes harder so all of it could finally seep out of his system. Only when Stiles’ cries began to die down and his body sag against the tree did Derek gingerly place the broken arm into the boy’s lap. His hands are trembling like leaves in the wind and the anxiety is gnawing at his nerves, churning his gut and squeezing his lungs. But Stiles—he has to make sure Stiles is okay.</p><p>    “Stiles.” Derek whispers. A bloody hand reaches up to gently nudge his shoulder. “Stiles.”</p><p>    Opening his eyes slowly, Stiles lets himself swim back to reality gradually. “Derek,” his voice was a little slurred and he was beat with exhaustion. The serum was out of his body, he could feel it, but it made a number on him. “‘M fine. It worked. I can’t feel it anymore.”</p><p>    Biting back his tears, Derek tips forward and presses their foreheads together. There’s a warm and gentle weight against his cheek and immediately tilts his head into it, eyes fluttering shut as Stiles’ fingertips caress his stubble cheek.</p><p>    “Derek. <em> I’m alright.</em>”</p><p>    The tears threaten to spill. Stiles is speaking way too softly to him. He doesn’t deserve it. He doesn’t deserve any of it.</p><p>“Stiles, I don’t deser—”</p><p>    Having already sensed the anxiety coiling around the alpha in a dark cloud, Stiles surged forward and closed the gap between their lips. Derek whimpers against his lips before pressing forward, almost eagerly, and slides a palm on to the back of his neck, pulling him in and keeping him close. The kiss only lasts for a few shorts seconds but it feels like years before they slowly pull away. Derek exhales before leaning up to press a kiss to Stiles’ forehead then pulling away completely. He helps the boy out of his plaid shirt before ripping the sleeve off, pretending he didn’t hear Stiles’ offended noise.</p><p>    “That was my favorite plaid shirt!”</p><p>    “I’ll buy you a new one.” Derek says, a soft smile dancing on his lips. He carefully wraps the cloth around the wound and ties it nice and tight. Stiles inhales sharply, body jolting before going slack when a hand on his thigh leeches a good amount of the pain away.</p><p>    “Now,” Stiles accepts the offered hand and climbs to his feet, “I think it’s about time we join the party. Did you bring your present?”</p><p>    Chuckling, Derek lets his nails form into claws and his eyes flashed crimson. “I brought plenty of presents.”</p><p>    Stiles takes Sapphire head on this time, hellbent to get this mess over and done with. She’s fueled with more fire this time and he took hit after hit. He feels the whip graze his skin every now then but he’s quick enough to dodge it. However, his rhythm slips when he lets a loud cry of agony from Scott distract him for a split second. Ennis had slashed Scott’s thigh, tearing it open like butter.</p><p>    “I think you should be paying more attention to your own fight.” Sapphire reprimanded, laughing as she cracked her whip forward. Stiles cries out as he feels it wrap around the same arm, digging into the fabric of his sleeve.</p><p>    “Okay, you know what.” Stiles reaches forward with the same arm and curls his hand around the whip, ignoring the searing pain blooming up to his shoulder. “As much as I love games, you’re starting to piss me off, lady. So I think it’s about time we end this charade.” </p><p>    Igniting his Spark, he lets himself be engulfed in heat. Eyes fading from its default ember color and tattoos pulsing to life, swirling and slithering around in his skin. Sapphire had little time to move as Stiles pulled on the whip, sending her flying towards him. With his free hand, he reaches out and catches her by enveloping a steady palm around her throat.</p><p>    “I’m not letting you continue to hurt my pack.” He snarls in her face. “I’m putting an end to your tirade.”</p><p>    He’s shouting something in a language she doesn’t recognize. The little bits of flashes in his eyes turn brighter, bigger, until a fiery flame spreads to engulf the entire eye. At their feet, a circle begins to form out of fire. Once the circle connects, lines begin to form until the symbol of a pentagram is below them.</p><p>    “You better pray I don’t see your face again. Because if I do,” Stiles lowers his tone to a whisper and lets his lips brush her ear, “I will let my pack tear you apart.”</p><p>    He lets go and watches her fall into the fiery portal he had created. Waving a hand over it, the portal closes and it gives Stiles a chance to turn around and observe the rest of his pack. Ennis seemed to be down for the count. His entire body was littered with deep gashes and it definitely didn’t look like he was breathing. He sees the other witches scatter into the trees after their leader was defeated, giving up and fleeing the war zone. Now, all they had to worry about was Kali and Kate. Kali, who was having a stand-off against Derek, while Kate was against Peter and Chris. The other pack members hung back and gathered themselves.</p><p>    “Shouldn’t we help them?” Scott rasps as Stiles walks over to them. “We can’t just sit back and watch!”</p><p>    “I think they can handle it.” Jackson says. “Right now, I think we should focus on getting Mason to the hospital before he bleeds out.”</p><p>    Nodding his head over at Theo and Liam, Stiles watches the two betas carefully pick the human up and begin carrying him away. His eyes continue to search around before he spots his father nearby. Noah was already walking over towards him, smiling widely. Stiles returns the smile and lets himself be embraced tightly.</p><p>    “It’s good to have you back, son.” Noah breaths in relief, squeezing the boy in his arms tightly. “You were gone for quite some time.”</p><p>    “How long?” Stiles asks, disentangling himself from his father’s grip.</p><p>    “3 months.”</p><p>    “Really? It felt more like 3 days.”</p><p>    “Time must be warped when you entered the dimensional plane.” Scott chuckles.</p><p>    Stiles narrows his eyes, hand lifting to prop on his hip. “I really was Thanos snapped into a different dimension, huh? If they don’t let me graduate, I swear to god—”</p><p>    Malia snorts in amusement. “You’re acting as if it was more like a minor inconvenience than anything.”</p><p>    “Are you kidding?” Stiles insinuates, looking far more amused at his experience than the rest of them were. “I call that a win! It’s like crossing something off my bucket-list.”</p><p>    A sudden pained howl catches their attention. Stiles snaps his head in Derek’s direction, lips curling down in a scowl. Kali had managed to slice her talon-like claws across his chest, knocking his balance and sending him to the ground.</p><p>    “Derek!” Scott shouts and immediately begins moving towards him. He’s suddenly stopped as an arm shoots out to stop him, bumping into his chest. Scott looks down and sees a bandaged arm preventing him from moving any further.</p><p>    “Stiles?”</p><p>    Staring ahead, the male kept his expression neutral as he watched Derek stagger back up to his feet. The alpha turns and looks back at them upon sensing their stares. Their eyes locked and that was all Stiles needed. Nothing was said but that was all Stiles needed to hear. It was silent communication between an alpha and his emissary.</p><p>    “Don’t.” Stiles orders quietly. “It’s their fight. It’s personal now.”</p><p>    Derek dips his head in a faint nod to show thanks and turns back to Kali. Stiles hears Allison make a scoff and begin scuffling around in her bag. He knows she’s grabbing her crossbow, knows which fight she plans on joining, and lets her join her father’s side.</p><p>    It was a battle against blood <em> for </em> blood.</p><p>    Kate, who had slaughtered the Hale pack in cold blood and killed more during her rampage once she was turned. Kate, who is relentless and unforgiving, has consistently returned to Beacon Hills eager to feel the sweet sensation of blood on her hands once more. Kate, who now not only faces her own flesh and blood, but an angry Sheriff—an angry <em> father</em>—that aims his shotgun with the intent to avenge his son and bring justice to the souls lost.</p><p>    Kali, who Stiles never properly met, was still just as pissed off and power-thirsty as before. From what Scott had relayed to him, she was angry that they had torn apart her ‘perfect pack’ and turned Deucalion against them. And despite killing Derek’s younger sister, Cora, as an act of revenge, she obviously feels that it wasn’t enough. So she had teamed up with Kate Argent and a Coven that Stiles had (somehow) pissed off when he was away for two years.</p><p>    Derek, who had buried the hate and guilt and anger for what had happened to his family long ago, is only aiming to avenge his fallen sibling, the only <em> true </em> family he had left. And while he grew to become more peaceful and restrained due to Scott’s influences over the years, he just simply couldn’t let her death go. And Stiles doesn’t blame him. If it was his father, he would be hellbent.</p><p>    Cora had arrived in Stiles’ absence and she was just like Derek. She was headstrong, feisty, and vigilant. If anything, she was angrier than Derek and only came to Beacon Hills when she heard that Derek had become an alpha. Until then, she left her brother in the dark and let him believe his siblings had left long long ago. </p><p>    Stiles didn’t like her. </p><p>    She was too driven with hate that it reminded him of Kate almost. And it was needless to say that Cora didn’t like him either. She constantly underestimated him. She thought he was just a mere human that ‘found the bodies’ instead of producing some <em> actual </em> help. She was always in his face and yelling at him for getting in the way of the pack. She always treated him like he <em> wasn’t </em> pack. </p><p>    And it stung. It really did. No one spoke out against her because they felt like they would be speaking out against Derek as well. </p><p>    It wasn’t until Stiles stopped biting his tongue did they end up having a screaming match in the backyard. It was something about her blaming Derek’s ‘pathetic attempts of being an alpha’ on the reason why bodies kept piling up. His Spark had accidentally activated with the sudden rise of anger and the wind was picking up and the air itself was crackling around them, igniting little sparks of electricity. Cora had never seen Stiles use his abilities, never believed he had any until that day, and it was also the pack’s first time seeing them since he had returned months prior.</p><p>    Stiles was <em> livid</em>; cornering her against a tree and just going off. He let out every suppressed thought, every word he bit back, and just hurled it all at her. He called her out for abandoning Derek and it wasn’t until later, until after Derek held him to his chest to calm him down, did Stiles realize that he was acting purely on raw instinct.</p><p>    That was the day of many things to come to light. His realization that his subconscious, his Spark, chose <em> Derek Hale </em> as his alpha was one of them.</p><p>    When she was killed during a fight with Kali, she had apologized. First to Derek, for leaving him behind when he needed her the most and keeping herself off his radar. She was selfish, and she finally admitted to it. She then apologized to Stiles.  She had learned to never underestimate him or the power of humanity altogether. In fact, the only reason she even acted out against him was because she was jealous. Yeah, you heard right. Cora Hale was <em> jealous </em> of Stiles Stilinski. She never got to elaborate before she passed but he now thinks he knows.</p><p>    All this time, Stiles thought it was Scott who had changed Derek’s heart. He thought it was Scott’s positivity and “hippie ways” that got the sourwolf to finally take a chill pill. And that Cora hated the fact that she couldn’t have an impact on Derek like Scott did.</p><p>    However, it wasn’t Scott’s neutral reasoning and dimpled grin that got to Derek’s heart.</p><p>    In reality, it was Stiles’ spark that ignited change and Cora just couldn’t believe a <em> mere human </em> made so much of a difference.</p><p>    And Scott, who absolutely refuses to even say the words ‘we need to kill’, seems to have accepted that Derek was about to kill. For the True Alpha sets his jaw and takes a few steps back.</p><p>    “Let her death be avenged.” Stiles persuaded gingerly. “This is not our fight anymore.”</p><p>    Kate Argent fell before Kali did. With the silver arrow lodged in her chest and a shotgun bullet in her leg, Chris did the deed himself by pulling the trigger once and for all. And all the times where Allison had to be the one comforted in her father’s embrace, it was now when the tables were turned and she held him tightly, letting him cry into her hair.</p><p>    When Kali had finally been defeated and Derek turned towards them, bloody and covered in gashes with tears glittering his eyes, Stiles approached him carefully and let the alpha lean against him.</p><p>    “Now she can rest easy,” Derek rasped against his shoulder.</p><p>    Stiles shook his head and pressed a feather kiss to his temple. “Now <em> you </em> can rest easy.”</p><hr/><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “born for this” by the score ]</b>
</p><p>    “I’m sorry for the trouble she caused,” Deucalion says earnestly. “She was my burden to bear and I should’ve handled it myself.”</p><p>    “It’s alright—”</p><p>    “Yeah, you probably should’ve.” Stiles bluntly interrupts. No sugar-coating when it came to him. Scott shoots him a bewildered look but is ignored. “You <em> said </em> you would when she killed Cora.”</p><p>    “Stiles.” Scott warns.</p><p>    Deucalion holds a hand up to the alpha and offers a tight-lipped smile. “No, Scott, he’s right. I said that I would take care of her myself after the first tragedy. But then Cora’s death happened and I thought I handled it and made it clear by removing her from my pack. However, it seems my actions only made it worse. I should’ve done more.”</p><p>    Leaning back against the wall with arms folded across his chest, Stiles raises his eyebrows.</p><p>    “And I should’ve been here to aid you in the fight.” Deucalion adds further, noticing the silent but demanding <em>‘and?’</em> in the emissary’s eyes. “I had heard about what happened 3 months ago. I had heard that Kali left England merely days before it happened. But still, I did nothing. For that, I am deeply sorry.”</p><p>    The apology was towards the entire back although it was mainly directed to Derek.</p><p>    “I know you’re being sincere,” the tone Derek is using hinted that there was a ‘but’ somewhere. “Though I do suggest you keep tighter reins on your pack.”</p><p>    “You’re right.” Deucalion concurred. “I’ve been too lenient and laid back. I’ve let my betas run free with no consequences. I think this just shows that I was never really a true alpha.”</p><p>    “Thanks, but,” Scott demurred with a chuckle. “I’m not perfect at it either.”</p><p>    Raising an eyebrow at the younger male, Deucalion opined lightly, “Actually, I wasn’t talking about you, Scott.”</p><p>    Scott’s eyebrows furrowed and he immediately looked over at Derek, who looked just offers a small shrug. Deucalion shakes his head and stands up from his chair, setting down the now empty mug of tea that Kira had thoughtfully brewed for him.</p><p>    “There’s been one person amongst the lot of you that has shown <em>outstanding</em> quality. Who has made a name for himself and carries not just the weight but the <em> respect </em> and the <em> influence </em> of an alpha.” Deucalion elaborates as he moves through the living-room, eyes scanning every face before him. And just as he’s about to leave, he stops in the archway, lifts a hand and places it on Stiles’ shoulder. He offers a small squeeze and gives Stiles a knowing, soft smile.</p><p>    “Although you’re the True Alpha by all means,” Deucalion speaks towards Scott even as he’s looking at Stiles, “even <em> you </em> seek out his guidance. And it seems your pack often follows his words over yours.” The hand leaves and he’s moving towards the front door now, calling out over his shoulder. “Thank you for the tea, Kira. It was delicious. I apologize for Kali once more and offer my thanks for the hospitality. I’ll keep in touch.”</p><p>    “Well,” Theo breaks the silence with an awkward chuckle. “Bet that was a blow to your ego, Scott.”</p><p>    Scott looks over at his best friend with an unreadable look. Stiles returns his gaze with an apprehensive aura blooming around him. Climbing to his feet after disentangling himself from the little cuddle session he had going on with Allison, Scott makes his way over to Stiles until the tips of their shoes are touching. His stoic expression hasn’t changed and although Stiles feels a little threatened, he stands up straighter and leans off the wall. Derek stiffens beside him, looking torn as he eyes both of them.</p><p>    Then Scott is grinning from ear to ear and he lowers his upper body to bow in this ridiculous, dramatic flourish with an arm tucked behind his back as if holding his invisible cape back.</p><p>    “My Lord.” His lame attempt of deepening his voice has Stiles cackling. He shoves at Scott’s shoulder before grabbing him and pulling him close. The tension is gone immediately and Derek finds himself watching fondly as Scott continues to tease Stiles after pulling away from their embrace.</p><p>    “That actually makes a lot of sense.” Liam acquiesced after they finally settled down in the living-room. They had just finished dinner and were lounging around, letting the food wear off while they watched the sunset. It was going to be a full moon tonight and they wanted to save their energy for the run later.</p><p>    “Stiles being the unofficial official alpha of the pack.”</p><p>    There’s noises of agreement that follow his words and Stiles feels warmth crawl up his neck.</p><p>    “You guys can’t really consider <em> me </em> an alpha, right?” He asks in disbelief.</p><p>    “Of course we do!” Aiden shrills, quickly sitting up to fix him with a look of exasperation. “Stiles, are you <em> still </em> doubting your place in the pack? After all this time?”</p><p>    “It’s not that.” Stiles quickly diffused before a fuss could start. “No, no, it’s not that. It’s just… <em> Me? </em> Alpha material? I’m not even a werewolf! I just can’t seem to make sense out of it.”</p><p>    Derek chuckles and gives his knee a squeeze. “Think of it this way, Stiles. Contrary to common belief, werewolves consider some humans as pack. It doesn’t matter if you’re a werewolf or a vampire—”</p><p>    “—Wait, <em> vampire</em>?—”</p><p>    “—Or a hellhound or a banshee or—”</p><p>    “—Of course there’s vampires. <em> Of course </em> there is. Wait, does that make me Bella Swan?”</p><p>    A hand clamping over his mouth suddenly ceases his excited rambling. </p><p>    Derek is giving him this look that speaks vast levels of tired fondness as he continues, “You don’t need to be a werewolf for us to look at you and see an alpha.”</p><p>    “You’ve proven yourself over the years, Stiles.” Scott agrees. “You were always drawn to the supernatural. You were always there to protect us, the first to swoop in and take a bullet, or in most cases an arrow. You always made sure we were all okay after a Big Bad was defeated.”</p><p>    “You were a heavy influence with me learning control.” Isaac comments, smiling over at him. “And you taught me how to extend my senses.”</p><p>    “You always cook a bomb feast, too.” Malia snorts as she tosses a chunk of bread into her mouth. “It’s like your pack mom but… more.”</p><p>    “When you got taken by the Ghost Riders,” Lydia’s sudden reminder of the event makes everyone grow quiet, “it affected all of us. Badly. Liam, Isaac, and Malia kept losing control without you being here. Derek went feral nearly every day since he lost his anchor. When you disappeared, you took a chunk of us with you and it was obvious that something was missing the second you vanished from our memories.”</p><p>    Derek shifts his body a little so he’s pressing closer into Stiles’ side and dips his head so the tip of his nose is brushing against the curve of his neck. He was scenting him. “Even my wolf acknowledges you as its alpha.”</p><p>    “We all do.” Jackson confirms. Stiles can’t help it, so he laughs. “Asswipe—I’m being genuine for once and he laughs at me.”</p><p>    Lydia, hiding her smile, pats his leg sympathetically. “You forget he’s still not used to you being nice to him.”</p><p>    “Do you think if I slam him into the wall he’ll take me seriously?”</p><p>    “I dare you to try.” Derek mutters against pale skin.</p><p>    Jackson scoffs, “It was a joke, Derek. Geez. You have such dry humor.”</p><p>    “Moon’s up!” Erica cheers and launches herself off the couch, making a beeline to the door while yanking off her jacket. Boyd grins and tugs Isaac up, tugging him with him to follow behind her. Everyone else is soon joining them, even Lydia, Allison, and Mason—all geared up in track wear and proper shoes.</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “wolves” by sam tinnesz ft silverberg ]</b>
</p><p>    Stiles is the last to join them outside and flashes a toothy grin at Peter, who groans when he takes notice of the red hoodie he had on. Derek is already in his wolf form, waiting for him at the make-shift ‘start line’ they made out of random bits of tape and signs they all decorated. The wolf makes a sort of chortle sound and lowers its body down to the ground. Stiles climbs on to its back without question and once he’s settled and holding tight, the wolf raises up easily like his weight means nothing. Looking up at the sky, Stiles watches the clouds move over the moon, blocking its monotone glow from reaching them. He feels his pack grow restless, impatient, for the moon to finally show itself, so he silently raises a hand in the air. He leans forward and keeps his grip tight on the wolf’s thick coat.</p><p>    Three.</p><p>    “Ready.”</p><p>    Two.</p><p>    “Steady.”</p><p>    The clouds finally clear and the moon shines brightly down upon them.</p><p>    One.</p><p>
  <em>     “Go.” </em>
</p><p>    They’re barreling into the treeline in an instant. High on adrenaline and buzzing with contagious energy. Stiles grins as the wind whips by his ears, stinging his cheeks and pushing his hood down. Fireflies are blinking and floating all around the pack as they dash wildly through the trees, untamed and free.</p><p>    Stiles felt just as exhilarated as he did when he first rode the wolf during their run. His heart is still hammering against his ribs even as the sun peaks over the horizons and they retreat back to their home to settle with a refreshing shower then some good breakfast.</p><p>    “You know, I just now realized something.” Stiles spoke unceremoniously around the food in his mouth. “I’m San and Derek is Moro!”</p><p>    Derek pauses, forkful of syrup-doused cinnamon pancakes mid-air as he squints at him from across the table.</p><p>    “Who?” Liam falters in confusion.</p><p>    “San. The human girl that was taken in by the wolf god, Moro?” Stiles bleakly offers. “Princess Mononoke? Oh god—please tell me you’ve <em> at least </em> heard of Studio Ghibli.”</p><p>    “What’s a Studio Ghibli?” Derek dares to ask.</p><p>    Stiles sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose.</p><hr/><p>    It’s Saturday and it’s his day off, though he still keeps his deputy uniform folded neatly on his dresser in case he gets a call from his father stating that he’s needed at the station. It happens more often than not but ever since the fiasco a few weeks ago, Noah has given him mercy and actually let Stiles heal properly first before deploying him back onto the force. Even then did his father stop calling him in so much on his days off because he knew Stiles was needed elsewhere. He only called when it was dire.</p><p>    Being an official deputy right beside his father never ceases to amaze him. He never thought he’d succeed in being in law enforcement. Originally, his goal was to possibly be in the FBI force however that meant moving away from the pack for an unknown amount of time. Not to mention FBI and supernatural don’t tangle together well. Stiles knew it was a failed goal since he wouldn’t be able to tell his pack about any of his confidential cases if he did end up becoming an agent.</p><p>    Stiles is the last to climb into the shower. He only decides to climb in and rinse the dirt and sweat off of him once he checks on everyone, making sure they’re safe in their rooms and curled under the blankets. By the time he’s out and stepping into a pair of sweats, it’s nearly eight in the morning. He can feel exhaustion creeping behind his eyes and he knows he should get some sleep despite having nothing planned tomorrow.</p><p>    This is if no Big Bad decides to make an appearance. Knowing his luck, he’ll get woken up in an hour to his pack shouting distress signals and firing red flares. It’s happened before. Plenty of times.</p><p>    There’s no day off in the supernatural world after all.</p><p>    Laying down on his bed and pulling the duvet over his body, Stiles thinks back to when he first met Derek. To his Grumpy Eyebrows and broody self, Derek was a confusing character that soon took over his life in stride. They always argued, always butted heads. Stiles was always challenging him, always having a sassy remark to nearly everything Derek had said. There wasn’t a day where they weren’t at each other’s throats and Scott was in over his head with frustration and exhaustion having to babysit them all the time.</p><p>    It took him a long time to figure it out but Derek was threatened by Stiles’ presence. He felt threatened because Derek could sense a shift in the pack dynamics when Stiles returned. Derek’s wolf knew that Stiles was alpha but Derek never cared to admit or acknowledge or even accept. And that’s why Derek was such a jerk to him for the longest time. He didn’t accept Stiles being looked at as if he was an alpha.</p><p><em>     “I’m the alpha.” </em> Derek had growled to him one too many times when Stiles pissed him off the right way. <em> “I don’t need to be taking orders from </em> you <em> .” </em></p><p>    It wasn’t until that day in the basement after Cora had died. It wasn’t until Derek saw Stiles training Liam and Isaac during their designated Training Nights. It wasn’t until he watched Scott, helpless and confused, turn to Stiles during a nasty match with a pack of werewolves that were trying to take over Beacon Hills. It wasn’t until he saw Erica and Boyd running to Stiles whenever they needed help with something. It wasn’t until he saw Theo talking to Stiles late one night in the living-room when everyone was sleeping, and Stiles was calming the beta down after a cruel nightmare triggered an anxiety attack. It wasn’t until he saw Mason in the kitchen at nearly 3am, pulling a blanket over Stiles who had fallen asleep at the table after countless hours of research.</p><p>    Sure the pack always ran to Stiles in their time of need but they always silently took care of him in his time of need as well. It’s how the dynamics <em> should </em> work in a pack.</p><p>    His own feelings towards the alpha sent Stiles in a spiral. He remembered looking over at Derek for help when he was having a petty argument with Jackson. Something about whether or not butter or cream cheese was superior when it came to bagels. Derek’s mouth twitches every few seconds during their banter, like he was trying so hard not to laugh while calmly eating his dinner.</p><p>    “Who the fuck wakes up in the morning and puts <em> butter </em> on an everything bagel?!” Jackson shrilled.</p><p>    “Correction, <em> douche-bag</em>, I only eat cinnamon raisin bagels!” Stiles barked from across the table.</p><p>    “<em> Even more </em> reason to never put butter on a bagel!”</p><p>    “Yeah? And what kind of cream cheese do you put on your everything bagel then, huh? Do tell.”</p><p>    “Honey Pecan.”</p><p>    “Hone—<em>Honey Pecan</em>?“ Stiles guffaws and throws his arms up in the air. “Oh. <em>My</em> <em>god.</em> I can’t believe this hypocrisy—You are now <em>banned</em> from cream cheese since you <em>clearly</em> don’t know how to act.”</p><p>    By then, Derek had finally let a laugh spill from his lips and Stiles had to do a double-take. Derek <em> the-constantly-brooding-alpha-that-rarely-cracked-a-smile </em> Hale laughing at something <em> Stiles </em> said? He must be hallucinating.</p><p>    “Butter tastes better on a cinnamon raisin bagel.” Derek comments after his laughter fades.</p><p>    Derek Hale <em> agreeing </em> with him? Definitely must be hallucinating.</p><p>    From that day on, Stiles found himself doing his best to make the alpha laugh or smile. He didn’t know where the sudden determination came from, or <em> why </em> exactly, but he couldn’t shake it. It was like one day he just woke up and decided he was going to make Derek Hale smile and the alpha was going to like it.</p><p>    And then Derek was everywhere. </p><p>    In the air Stiles breathed, in the crisp morning rain that calmed him to sleep after particularly rough nights. </p><p>    He doesn’t know when it started, or how and why, but all he knew was that he <em> seriously </em> needed to learn how to control his heart-rate whenever Derek walked into the room shirtless after a morning jog.</p><p>    Even after the fight with Kali, Kate and Sapphire, after the kiss they shared in the field, nothing else had happened. Nothing was said, from either parties, and nothing was done. Derek did stick close to Stiles’ side more than usual but he refused to think too deeply into it. By now, Stiles was beginning to wonder if he looked between the lines too much.</p><p>    A knocking sound brings Stiles out of his near slumber. Turning around to look over at his bedroom door, Stiles groggily rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. Looks like he won’t be getting any rest today after all.</p><p>    With a small sigh, he climbs out of his bed and trudges over to the door. “Shouldn’t you be—” He opens the door and nearly swallows his tongue at the sight of Derek in front of him, hair still a bit damp from the shower he took earlier. “—asleep… Derek, what are you doing here?”</p><p>    Derek looked troubled. Like he was trying to make-up his mind about something and the courage was slipping from him by the passing second. This spiked worry to recoil off of Sties, who took a small step forward and reached out to touch his arm.</p><p>    “Derek? Is everything okay?”</p><p>    “I never said it back.” whispers Derek, voice rigid and tense.</p><p>    Stiles frowns. “Never said what back? What are you talking about?”</p><p>    “Stiles, I never said it back.”</p><p>    “Said <em> what </em> back?” Stiles stressed, pulling his hand away. “Derek, c’mon. You’re starting to freak me out.”</p><p>    Then Derek is moving forward, too quickly for Stiles to process. There are trembling hands on his cheeks and he’s being pushed back into his room. There’s a door shutting a little too loudly for his liking but he can’t complain. Literally. He can’t complain, not with a pair of warm lips over his own and stubble brushing against his chin. The kiss is surprisingly soft for how desperate Derek appears to be. Stiles is stunned into stillness, never expecting the suddenness of Derek at his door, and before he could make a move to press back into him, the alpha is pulling away.</p><p>
  <b>[ playlist ↺ “i found” by amber run ]</b>
</p><p>    “I never said it back.”</p><p>    “Derek, I don’t get what you’re trying to—”</p><p><em>     “I love you.” </em> Derek proclaims. </p><p>    Stiles’ eyes grow wide as he stares up at him. “W-What..?”</p><p>    Showing a soft smile, Derek reaches up to brush the hills of his knuckles gingerly against the boy’s cheek. “I love you, Mieczyslaw Stilinski.” He hears Stiles’ heart-rate skyrocket at the use of his real name, causing his smile to grow wider. “And I’m sorry for hurting you. I’m sorry for keeping you waiting this long for me. Can you find it in yourself to forgive me?”</p><p>    Swallowing thickly, Stiles ignores the tears in his eyes as he offers a compromise, “If you kiss me again, I’ll consider it.”</p><p>    Derek laughs quietly and reaches forward to gently curl his fingers into the hem of his sweats and pulls. Stiles stumbles into his chest, fingers gripping onto the collar of the alpha’s shirt with white-knuckles and a loose tear slowly rolling down his cheek. They’re kissing again. More firmly this time, but nothing too rushed. Derek’s hands are big and warm as they curl around his waist, slip under his shirt, and press into the curse of his back. Those same hands soon grip his hips and lift him a few inches off his feet. Stiles emits a soft, breathy grunt as his back hits the mattress, body bouncing a little from the momentum. Derek is kneeling between his thighs and pulling his own shirt off, tossing it off to the side before helping Stiles out of his.</p><p>    “You’re covered in so many moles.” Derek points out, eyeing the small brown dots littering across his collarbone, arms, and down his side.</p><p>    Shying away from the lingering touch, Stiles cringed and attempted to cover himself up. “I know, I’m sorry. They’re pretty much everywhere.”</p><p>    “Don’t.” Derek gently grabs his hands and pulls them away. “Don’t hide yourself from me.”</p><p>    “B-But my marks—</p><p>    “—Are <em> beautiful</em>,” he interrupts, dismissing any insecurity the boy may have. For emphasis’ sake, Derek leans down and presses a trail of soft kisses along his collarbone. “ <em> You </em> are beautiful, Stiles.”</p><p>    Flushing a deep scarlet, Stiles grumbles, “Sap.”</p><p>    Derek chuckles and kisses his way back up to his lips only to pull away before they could properly kiss, grinning at the way Stiles whines and tries to chase after his lips. “Stiles. Stiles, before we continue, I need to make sure you’re okay with it first.”</p><p>    “Okay with what?” Stiles asks, clearly distracted with tracing the curve of Derek’s jaw with his fingertip. “Oh, the sex part? Are you <em> seriously </em> asking me that?”</p><p>    “Stiles, I’m sure you know how about werewolf dynamics.”</p><p>    “If you’re talking about the whole thing where werewolves knot after sex, then yeah I’m okay with it.”</p><p>    “There’s more to it.” Derek insists gently and takes Stiles’ hand, stopping him from touching him any further. “Stiles, I want to make you mine tonight. <em> Officially. </em>”</p><p>    At first, the younger doesn’t quite get what he’s hinting at. It only takes a few seconds to tick by before realization floods his expression and a soft flush appears to his pale cheeks. “Oh. You’re… The mate bite. You’re talking about the mate bite.”</p><p>    Derek nods.</p><p>    Stiles swallows. “With me? Are—Are you sure?”</p><p>    “Are <em> you </em> sure?” The alpha counters meekly. “Because once the bite is there, I can’t reverse it. There are ways to break the bond but it’ll be—”</p><p>    “Are you kidding?” Stiles barks out a laugh and reaches up to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck. “There’s no way in hell I would break the mate bond, Derek.”</p><p>    A smile tugs on the wolf’s lips. “So you’re sure then?”</p><p>    Stiles pulls Derek down for a lingering, chaste kiss and murmurs against his lips. “As sure as I’d ever be.”</p><p>    Derek discovered that Stiles was even more beautiful with his skin completely exposed, body illuminated by the sunrise peering through the windows. He could see all the beauty marks littering his pale skin and kissed each and every single one of them. He even added his own marks as well; little hues of purples and reds dotting along his neck, collar, and thighs (Stiles was particularly sensitive on the inside of his thighs and Derek couldn’t help but pay <em> special attention </em> to those areas most).</p><p>    It was kind of cute to see Stiles try to stifle the sounds he was making and the way his breath hitched when Derek thrusts against <em> that </em> spot. His bottom lip must be bruised by now from all the abuse it endured (how has it not started bleeding?) because a simple palm over his mouth wasn’t quite doing the trick. Truthfully, it’s not like it would matter if he was loud or not. Everyone would be able to tell. They reek of each other by now.</p><p>    “Stop that,” Derek ended up getting sick of the way he couldn’t hear the noises anymore so he removed the hand covering Stiles’ mouth. “Let me hear me hear you.”</p><p>    “B-But the others—”</p><p>    “How many times have we been kept awake because of Erica and Boyd?” With one large hand pinning both wrists down above his head, Derek was satisfied now that Stiles wasn’t able to do anything. “And how many times have we been stuck waiting for over an hour for Allison and Scott to <em> finally </em> get out of the shower?”</p><p>    Stiles’ breath hiccups when Derek rolls his hips to give a shallow, lazy thrust. “O-Or when we actually caught Theo and Liam going at it on the couch.”</p><p><em>     “Exactly.” </em> Derek pulls his head back a bit so he could properly look down at his lover. “So I think it’s about time we give all of them a little payback, don’t you?”</p><p>    A whimsical grin begins to tug at Stiles’ lips. “I think they owe us that much.”</p><p>    That’s all that needed to be said for Derek to snap.</p><p>    Stiles can barely contain himself. Alternating between loud cries that sounded more like screams than anything else and small shaky moans when Derek actually gave him mercy for a few seconds. His jaw was unhinged, mouth wide open and fingers clawing at the sheets above in desperation to ground himself. He’s saying Derek’s name like it’s some sort of prayer and Derek <em> loves </em> the way it tantalizingly rolls off his tongue.</p><p>    He wasn’t even aware that his fingernails had sharpened themselves until Stiles inhaled sharply at a particularly harsh squeeze of his hips. Stiles had only managed to utter a jagged ‘don’t’ when Derek went to pull his hands away before his fingers dove into the alpha’s hair and <em> pulled</em>.</p><p>    When Stiles came undone a while later, Derek timed the bite with it to give the boy a mixture of sensations. And he swore Stiles blacked out for a second there. His head tipped back, eyes nearly in the back of his skull, and mouth hanging open with a loud yell that <em> definitely </em> shook the house awake. He was trembling like a leaf in the wind, thighs twitching and spasming and he was breathing so hard that Derek was worried he might need that inhaler soon. </p><p>    Derek only had seconds left before he was done for as well and he could already feel his knot beginning to swell. So he focused on lapping up the blood on Stiles’ shoulder with his tongue, doing his best to ease the stinging, before white painted his vision. </p><p>    Stiles emits a choked sob when Derek tried to move their positions, knot catching and causing the alpha to growl quietly. He tried to move as tenderly as he could before finally settling on his back with Stiles on top of his chest.</p><p>    “How are you feeling?” Derek asked after a moment of catching his breath.</p><p>    Lifting his head, Stiles blinks groggily at him before showing a lazy smile. “I feel <em> fantastic</em>. I think you quite literally fucked my brains out, Der.”</p><p>    Derek’s chest rumbles with a chuckle, “I didn’t hurt you, did I?”</p><p>    “No.” A pause before Stiles is snickering, head lowering into the junction of his neck. “At least not in a sense where I didn’t enjoy it.”</p><p>    Derek snorts and pushes away the sweat-slick raven locks away from his forehead, pressed a kiss there, then glanced over at the clock. <em> 10:07am </em> glowed dully back at him.</p><p>    “Were we seriously going at it for over an hour?” Stiles mumbles against his shoulder.</p><p>    “Looks like it.”</p><p>    “We’re never going to hear the end of this, are we?”</p><p>    “Probably not.”</p><p>    Stiles groans. “I’m starting to think we need to soundproof each room.”</p><p>    “We probably should’ve done that the first time around.” Derek pointed out with a grin. “Would’ve saved us a lot of sleepless nights.”</p><p>    “They amount of sexual tension in the air made me want to vomit,” Stiles complains.</p><p>    A loud knock startled both of them and Derek shot his head up to glare at the closed door.</p><p>    “Enter at your own peril.” Stiles bemoans. “We ain’t covering up for shit.”</p><p>    The door remained shut. Wise decision.</p><p>    “Are you two hormonal teenagers <em> finally </em> done?”</p><p>    “Aiden, <em> what do you want?</em>” Derek demanded. “We’re not exactly in the position to do anything right now if you couldn’t tell.”</p><p>    “Oh, I know.” Aiden scoffs. “Nothing like waking up to hearing our pack alpha getting laid.”</p><p>    “Which is, by the way, <em> about fucking time</em>!” Ethan contributed. “If you thought the tension in the house was bad, you definitely weren’t stuck watching you two imbeciles dance around each other for a whole frickin’ year!”</p><p>    “We only wanted to tell you that breakfast was done.” Lydia sounded a lot more calm and less irritated than the other two though she did sound pained in her next words. “But, Stiles, maybe next time you should put a silence hex around your room.”</p><p><em>     “Suck my ass.” </em> Stiles retaliates.</p><hr/><p>    “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Scott asks, watching Stiles move around with mild interest. “Do you need us here anymore?”</p><p>    “Nah, Scotty, you guys are good to go.” Stiles replies as a hand lifts to give a ‘shoo’ motion over his shoulder. “I know what I’m doing now. Thanks for the help, but I’m pretty sure I got the rest of this under control.”</p><p>    He can hear retreating footsteps from behind him but he doesn’t bother turning around, too busy organizing all the mountain ash he had brought with him.</p><p>    “Why do you need so much?” Derek asks curiously, stepping to his side. “Do you really need that much just to purify something?”</p><p>    Stiles turns and cocks an eyebrow at the wolf. “Derek, we’re talking about the <em> Nemeton </em> here.”</p><p>    Derek’s eyes softened and he sighs softly, “You’re not just doing this because of the Darach are you? It's because of the Nogitsune, too.”</p><p>    A muscle in Stiles’ jaw flexed and he turned away to continue gathering all the items Deaton advised him to bring. “I don’t want to have anyone go through what I did, Derek.” He faltered. “Having someone—some<em> thing</em>—possess your body, make itself a home in your head and rearrange the furniture… That kind of stuff doesn’t just vanish overnight.”</p><p>    “I understand,” reassures Derek as he bends down, placing a comforting hand on Stiles’ shoulder. “Trust me. Having to be the only one that could calm you down from a nightmare for over the span of five months, I get that it took its toll on you. I get that you were traumatized, Stiles. And, yes, I’m still pissed that everyone pretended that you were fine afterwards. But what I <em> don’t </em> get is this.”</p><p>    “After that whole fiasco with the Darach, I’d rather not have someone come here to try that stuff again. She set <em> a lot </em> of events into motion when she tampered with its energy and it wasn’t a fun time for everyone.” Stiles explains while getting to his feet. He begins pouring the mountain ash around the Nemeton carefully until it forms a circle.</p><p>    “But it’s more than just that.” Derek coaxes, standing up.</p><p>    Exhaling deeply and tossing the empty jar to the side, Stiles adds further, “When Jennifer tapped into Nemeton's energy, she basically lit a beacon to every supernatural being that exists. Ever wonder why we can never seem to catch a break? It’s because a wolf all the way in Russia would be able to sense the Nemeton’s unshielded power and will seek it out. It drives them nearly insane for the need for power. Each week’s Big Bad is worse than the other and we always end up facing someone new. I don’t know about you guys, but I actually have a life and a job that requires me to actually <em> show up</em>, so.”</p><p>    Derek nods, a look of understanding crossing his features. “And you think purifying the Nemeton’s energy will do the trick?”</p><p>    “The Nemeton became corrupted the second innocent blood touched its bark.” Stiles cringes softly when he realizes that it was Paige’s blood that first stirred things up. “Deaton said it’s possible now that I’ve mastered more complex spells.”</p><p>    “However?” Derek drawls with raised brows.</p><p>    Stiles sighs and gives him a look of defeat. “I’ll be using all of my Spark’s energy and will be rendered pretty much useless for about two weeks.”</p><p>    Derek definitely doesn’t look as pleased as he sounds. “And what if it <em> doesn’t </em> work?”</p><p>    “Then I’ll be completely defenseless and Beacon Hills will be raided with supernaturals within the matter of hours.”</p><p>    “Stiles.” The alpha looks as if he wants to throw him across the woods.</p><p>    “I know, okay? I know it sounds bad but we can’t keep ignoring it!” defended Stiles while throwing his arms up in the air. “It’s going to keep giving us issues if I don’t <em> try </em>, Derek. I have to try.”</p><p>    Rubbing his hands all over his face in clear frustration, Derek groans loudly against his palms. “Fine. Fine. But how will we know if it <em> does </em> work?”</p><p>    Stiles turns to look over at the large stump with a look of disdain. “Deaton didn’t say, actually.”</p><p>
  <em>     “Stiles!” </em>
</p><p>    “It’s a 50/50 chance, okay?! And stop giving me those Grumpy Eyebrows. They don’t work on me anymore.”</p><p>    He could definitely tell Derek is restraining a lot of anger right now judged by the way the alpha’s shoulders are taunt and tense.</p><p>    “Well I’m not leaving you alone.” Derek declares stubbornly.</p><p>    “Derek, you have to.” Stiles counters, turning towards him with a frown. “None of you can be within a 30 foot radius of me while I do the ritual. You could get hurt really bad. Or worse.”</p><p>    “Stiles I’m not—”</p><p>    “—I’m not going to sit here and argue with a brick wall.” With a roll of his eyes, Stiles pivots around and snaps his fingers, successfully transporting Derek to a much more safe distance.</p><p>    (And if he strains his hearing a little, he could faintly pick up the angry shout of his full birth name in the distance. So, just for safety measures, he installs an invisible dome around the radius. There’s another shout.)</p><p>    Kneeling down to the ground, Stiles pulls out all of the ingredients he had packed in his bag. Each little bottle labeled to identify what it's containing. Next is the piece of paper that Deaton handed to him with all the proper instructions and notes Stiles would need to be mindful of.</p><p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <span class="u"> <b> <em>Wild West Powder (Banishing)</em> </b> </span>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> 2 ½ cloves </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> 2 black peppers </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> 3 tbsp onion powder </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> 1 cayenne pepper </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> ½ tsp cumin </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> 1 tsp paprika </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> 2 drops of chili oil </em>
  </p>
  <p>
    <em> Take note: The best time to use the spell is during the waning moon. Make sure the pack is at least 30 feet away or else the spell will backfire. Once you crush all the ingredients together, hold the powder in our hands and sprinkle it in with the mountain ash you laid out around the Nemeton. This will insure that whatever spirit that is still tied to the Nemeton that you risk awakening will stay in the circle and will be easier for you to banish. Please know that you can still banish it and run the risk of having the spell fail at the same time. You’ll be able to tell if the spell doesn’t work if the circle of mountain ash and powder is broken and you’ll feel the energy in the air become thicker, heavier. If the spell works, the circle will remain intact and the powder you mixed together will now longer be mixed with the mountain ash. If the circle is broken  or if you’re forced out of the circle during your attempt to banish whatever you awaken, there is still a chance to save the spell. However, I personally wouldn’t recommend it unless you’re comfortable with losing your Spark permanently. Good luck. Have someone give me a call once you’ve finished. </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>    “Oh, so now you tell me what would happen if it works.” He scoffs, setting the paper down to grab the mortar and pestle. “Thanks for the boost of confidence, Deaton. Totally not under-pressure over here.”</p><p>    It doesn’t take long to crush all of the ingredients together one by one. Carefully pouring the powder into his hand, not wanting to spill any of it, Stiles slowly stands to his feet and takes a step forward. Sending a silent prayer, he brings his hand to his mouth and blows. The powder is sent flying through the air, landing on the rough surface of the stump. Once all of the powder leaves his hand, he watches as it shifts and churns on the wood before expanding outwards to mix in with the mountain ash.</p><p>    It has begun.</p><p>    Taking a deep breath, Stiles rubs his hands together to ignite the Spark into his fingertips. “Here goes nothing.”</p><p>    Much like Deaton forewarned, Stiles did awaken something and they definitely were not pleased to see each other. How the hell was he supposed to know that he would be face to face with Jennifer Blake’s pissed off spirit?</p><p>    “You.” She snarls, voice all echo-y just like he thought it’d be.</p><p>    “Me.” Stiles mutters begrudgingly.</p><p><em>     “You.” </em> She repeats, darker and harsher this time. “You took <em> everything </em> from me!”</p><p>    “Listen, lady, as much as I’d <em> love </em> to sit here and gossip with you, I have a pissed off alpha that I need to return to, so let’s get this over with, shall we?”</p><p>    She doesn’t go down without a fight and for a ghost, her hits stagger Stiles more than they should have. He can tell his arm is bleeding when her daggers for nails dug into his shoulder. She nearly knocked him out of the ring if he hadn’t caught himself in time. After a grueling half hour, he was finally able to banish her successfully. And Deaton was right. About the whole being completely wiped of energy, Spark put out and everything, because Stiles is already on the ground before he realizes.</p><p>    Man, he definitely is not doing this spell again.</p><p>    Speaking of which, Stiles musters enough energy to turn his body and look over at the ring of mountain ash. When he saw the powder gone and the ash still neatly intact, he cried in relief.</p><p>    Derek was already barrelling towards him the second the dome he set up broke. He couldn’t get to Stiles, though, with the circle of mountain ash being around him and Stiles was far too weak to be able to break it himself. The pack were running towards them in an instant after hearing Derek’s desperate calls and Mason is the one to break the circle.</p><p>    He was banged up pretty good. He originally thought it was just his arm that was injured but no. A few fractured ribs and fingers, a broken collarbone and 23 stitches in his shoulder.</p><p>    “‘M fine, Der,” Stiles slurred, pain medication running high through his system as he lay in the hospital bed. “‘M gon’ be fine.”</p><p>    Derek smiled fondly down at him and gently brushed his hair back. “I know, Stiles. You did good.”</p><p>    “Really good,” Deaton praised sincerely from the doorway. “He successfully banished Jennifer’s spirit and cleansed the Nemeton's energy. That’s a nasty spell to cast to begin with and its consequences are high so the success rate is low. Only one with pure enough energy would be able to conquer it.”</p><p>    “So what happens now?” asked Kira. “Does that mean there won’t be any more Big Bads?”</p><p>    “Yes and no,” Deaton begins, “The effect isn’t immediate. You’ll still be dealing with Big Bad’s for a good amount of time. I estimate it to be about two weeks before things begin to settle down. You’ll get significantly less hostile visitors but it won’t dampen them down completely. So while Stiles is recovering, I think it’s best if we come up with some sort of game plan. A pack’s Emissary being out of commission will spark a lot of unwanted attention from enemies.”</p><p>    “Someone needs to be here to watch.” Peter affirms.</p><p>    “My mom works the night shift now,” Scott informs. “I can tell her about Stiles being here and I’m sure she’d help keep an eye on him.”</p><p>    “We’d have to rotate.” Derek contributes. “Have at least two people here during the day, alternating with others to not seem suspicious. While either me or Scott will guard him during the night.”</p><p>    Stiles groans weakly. “Der.”</p><p>    “No, Stiles, you get no word in this.” Derek objected sternly. “With your alpha’s presence near you, it’d be able to speed the healing process even by a bit. We can tend to the town during the day and come tend to you during the night. No ifs, ands, or buts. Got it?”</p><p>    “I like it when you go all ‘I’m the alpha’ on me. It’s really hot”</p><p>    Derek gives him an unamused stare as the others make disgusted noise. Stiles just giggles, all groggy and high on the medication he was given.</p><p>    “Glad to know he’s still just as annoying as usual.” Peter drawls.</p><p>    “Get some rest, idiot.” Derek chuckles, leaning down to press a kiss to Stiles’ soft tiers before lingering another press to his forehead. “I’ll keep watch over you tonight, alright?”</p><p>    Giving a sleepy nod and a few smack of his lips, Stiles is out cold within seconds of shutting his eyes. Derek shakes his head a little before then stands out of his chair, bidding goodbye to the pack. Everyone’s gone by the time he notices Noah still sitting in his chair with an empty foam cup of sludge disguised as coffee.</p><p>    “Noah,” Derek greeted calmly.</p><p>    “Derek.” Noah replies and sets the cup down. “Figured it’d be a good time to sit down and have that chat you were asking me about the other day.”</p><p>    “Right. Of course.” Derek walks over and sits down in the chair seated on the opposite side of the small table Noah was sitting at. “I just wanted to let you know that you did a great job raising Stiles. For everything you’d been through, especially after your wife and the mess that happened afterwards with finding out about the supernatural the hard way, it definitely is not easy. I always saw you struggling as a parent and as a Sheriff.”</p><p>    Noah chuckles, strained but not bitter. “Struggling is a hell of an understatement. There were many times where I cried myself to sleep thinking I wasn’t a good enough parent. But thank you, Derek, I appreciate it.”</p><p>    “Stiles is a strong kid.” Derek pauses before immediately correcting himself. “No. Not a kid. He’s not a kid anymore.”</p><p>    “Definitely not a kid anymore.” Noah marveled, eyes traveling over to his son. “I’ve watched him grow from a hyperactive toddler that would never shut up and go to sleep until we played Bohemian Rhapsody at least seven times to a spastic teen that depended on Adderall to calm himself down to a sustainable level least he triggers someone’s homicidal tendencies.”</p><p>    “It was definitely a treat to watch him mature.” Derek says, laughing. “We bickered and bantered all the time. I’m honestly surprised we didn’t end up choking one another.”</p><p>    “Ya’know,” Noah stands up with a low groan as a few joints in his knees and back crack, cup in hand as he makes his way over to the coffee maker, “I know the whole dynamic changed for you when your sister was killed but I think it changed for him after the whole Nogitsune incident.”</p><p>    “You think so?” Derek ponders, brows furrowed.</p><p>    “It’s quite obvious, if you ask me.” Noah states and pours whatever is left into his cup. “You helped Kira and Scott the most when it came to getting the thing out of him. And before you spew the whole ‘I’m the alpha’ thing at me, I think we all know it was more than that.”</p><p>    Derek sighs and leans back in his chair. “He was there for me when Cora died. He comforted me in my time of need and I didn’t really know how to properly thank him for that.”</p><p>    “So you thought getting an ancient and <em> very </em> pissed off kitsune out of him would do the talking for you.” The Sheriff concluded, turning to face him with a soft grin and a fresh cup of coffee in hand. “Don’t take me wrong, Derek, I’m not mocking or belittling you in any way. What you did back there with Scott, entering Stiles’ mind to bring him back, I commend you for that and as a father, I hold the deepest respect for you.”</p><p>    “Thank you, Sheriff, that means a lot.”</p><p>    Noah shoots him a look and sits down in the chair. “Derek, how many times have I told you to call me Noah?”</p><p>    The alpha chuckles and looks down at his hands. “Too many times.”</p><p>    “Exactly.”</p><p>    “Sorry, sir—I mean Noah. Sorry.”</p><p>    The male laughs, boisterous and resonating. “You’re fine, Derek, stop being so stiff will ya?”</p><p>    Derek smiles. “I’ll try to.”</p><p>    A silence falls upon them as they both gaze over at the boy occupying the bed. Curled up on the side without the fractured ribs or collar and holding the blanket tightly to his body. He looked beautiful when he was asleep like that. Peaceful. Like he was sleeping off any other normal day and not an attack against the spirit of a dark druid in an effort to cleanse an ancient tree.</p><p>    “Yeah, I could definitely tell his dynamics changed when he came back.” Noah wonders aloud. “I remember vividly when the bond between him and the Nogitsune was broken and he came crawling out of the ground. He was so confused and lost and so, so scared. But you protected him. You shielded him. Even after it was all dealt with, you were the one to take care of him when he was diagnosed with PTSD.”</p><p>    “I was the only one he told, actually.” Derek clarified. “He didn’t tell the others because they weren’t there for him. At least not like how I was. He got really good at saying 'I'm fine', so much so that it painfully believable. But if Scott was as much of an alpha as he says he is, then he would’ve been able to hear the blip in Stiles’ heart-beat.”</p><p>    Noah raised his eyebrows. “That’s one hell of a dig at Scott.”</p><p>    “And?” Derek counters, looking over at him. “Scott is his best friend. He should’ve been the first one there for him, not me. He was too focused on having alone time with Allison.”</p><p>    The Sheriff made a face that he concurred with him and raised his cup to take a sip of his coffee. “Scott always put his priorities ahead of others. Sometimes I just want to smack the kid for being so dense.”</p><p>    “Oh, trust me. I already had that handled.” At Noah’s imploring look, Derek clarifies; “I didn’t actually hit him, I just screamed in his face for a good fifteen minutes.”</p><p>    “If you ask me, Scott deserved a good smack or two for how he was treating Stiles back then.”</p><p>    “Agreed.” Derek muses. “But I think the rest of the pack did that. Either that or he realized on his own because he quickly changed his attitude shortly after.”</p><p>    “Alright,” Noah heaves and stands to his feet once again, “as much as I’d like to sit here and chat longer, this coffee is far too weak for my liking and I have an early shift so I should go get as much sleep as I can before I go in. Is that all you needed to discuss?”</p><p>    Derek stands as well. “Actually, no. There’s another thing I wanted to discuss.”</p><p>    Curious, Noah turns to him in the doorway and asks, “What is it?”</p><p>    Straightening his posture, Derek slowly walks over towards him and lowers his voice as if he’s afraid that someone aside from Noah would hear him. “I know you know that I’ve been dating your son for the past seven months, but has he told you that we’re mates as well?”</p><p>    “He mentioned it once or twice but he didn’t really elaborate what it meant.”</p><p>    “When it comes to werewolves, choosing a mate is rare. You yourself don’t choose your mate, it's your wolf that does.” Derek wrecks his brain to find a way to explain it without it sounding so confusing. “First, it’s the scent that pulls the wolf in. To me, Stiles smells like cinnamon, firewood, and mountain ash. And it all makes so much sense. When I was young, my family would have bonfires and we’d make s’mores. The smell of it being put out afterwards, of scorched firewood, brought me back to my childhood. Mountain ash because of his standing in the supernatural spectrum. Cinnamon because of his strong presence. Once my wolf accepted his scent and sought it out amongst everything else, that’s when the first tether of a mating bond forms.”</p><p>    “What happens afterwards?” queries Noah.</p><p>    “The bite.” Derek says. “And I’m not talking about the bite where it changes him to a werewolf. This bite is a special bite that can only work during intercourse.”</p><p>    Noah’s eyebrows shot up. “Intercourse?”</p><p>    Derek quickly reassures, “It was completely consensual. I had already told him about it and asked him if that was what he wanted. So he knew what he was getting into and he already believed that we were mates as well.”</p><p>    “Alright, so what are you trying to get at?” Noah prodded, turning to properly face him.</p><p>    Gathering as much courage as he could possibly get, Derek takes a deep breath and looks the man in the eye. "I wanted to ask you for permission to marry your son."</p><hr/><p>    Beacon Hills definitely didn’t fall short on the crazy train. The once quiet and quaint town in California quickly entered the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.</p><p>    There was always mysterious and unexplained things happening all over town. From horrific deaths and people randomly appearing in the streets targeting a certain group of teenagers, there was always something happening.</p><p>    But if only they knew. If only they knew about the darkness in the woods and what lurks the shadows. If only they knew about glowing eyes and canines dripping with saliva. If only they knew about the house in the woods and the not-so-normal people that occupied it.</p><p>    For if they did know, they'd hear legends about the boy in the red hood riding a large wolf through the trees, basking in the full moon. If only they knew what he was capable of doing, of the match he held in his hand. If only they knew about the boy that ran with wolves.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for taking the time to read this gigantic fic! I know it may not seem that big but it's the longest one-shot I've ever written. I did my best to not rush certain scenes while also getting the point across so I hope this fic turned out a lot better than what I give it credit for. Hope you guys enjoyed and let me know what you think in the comments ♥</p></blockquote></div></div>
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